Hxh Smut - Tumblr Posts

Minors D.N.I. +18

Hello you can call me Miss Secret, I write anime fandoms only for right now, and yes I do write dark/taboo content, by request or personal, so if that bugs you please just leave, I won’t entertain hate, you will be reported, blocked and forgotten about so please don’t try

My will/won’t write kink list is HERE so please check it out before you send in a request 😊 If any requests makes me uncomfy I’ll let you know and update the list accordingly!

Requests are ✨️Open✨️

I love working with prompts, HERE and HERE and HERE and HERE and HERE

I do write and use the app only on my phone, so sorry for any spelling/grammar/formatting issues! I can’t wait to see some requests and write for you!

Will you do more hxh polls and post more

Ummm yea to the hxh bc I love hxh but to the post more idk I don't have a lot of followers that one of the reasons but I will try

I put a song for hisoka hope you like it😁

But all jokes aside I will not post tomorrow but the day after I will

Chrollo Lucilfer Yandere Analysis.

Yan Chrollo x F Reader.

Warnings: Yandere themes, kidnapping, not SFW (both non-con and dub-con), the reader is described as AFAB and uses she/her pronouns respectfully, forced tattooing, Chrollo having a god complex but that's nothing new lol, Stockholm Syndrome, stalking, parallels to religion (mainly Judeo-Christianity), implied body transformation (using Chrollo’s book), masturbation, manipulation, and violence/gore.

Word Count: 13k.

credits to @ddarker-dreams for the yandere MBTI and like everything she writes for this creepy greaseball (check her out if you haven’t already!!) <33333

another thanks to @depravitycentral for the inspiration! check them out too!!!! their general profile and nsfw profile for mr. chrollo specifically BUT everything they write is pretty good! <33333

one last thanks to @phasmophobia-territory for the ultimate yandere types list and @blughxreader for the yandere personality meme. both have inspired the unique qualities part of this analysis, so please be sure to check them out! <333

also, for quotes i tried to do something like genshin impact/honkai: star rail voicelines so i apologize if they aren’t good (ﾒ﹏ﾒ)

*~*~*~*

I look forward to living life with you from here on out. However, just know that there will be many different roads we will walk together on. Their lengths will depend on you, for better or for worse. As time goes on, however, I know that they will all end eventually.

→ Introduction.

The very definition of an empty shell, Chrollo has had his humanity stripped of him from a very young age. The only people who have ever made him feel something are all members of the Troupe or are buried underground, burning in hell or soaring above the clouds as angels, either one a much better existence than the life they all spent in Meteor City. So, when he sees you, someone who has been able to make him feel something without interacting with him at all, without the use of Nen, without even brushing your shoulder against him while running to your train in a hurry, he does not know what to do.

He feels like he is back to being a small child, roaming the streets and looking through dumpsters for anything of value trying to ignore the pain of the cuts and infections all over his body. You bring up a feeling he has not felt in years; fear. Despite this situation being far, far different from those times, his brain thinks otherwise. It sends him a fight or flight response every time he sees you, as much as he hides it, much like he hides himself among the crowds and crowds of people as he follows you home. You have resurrected a beast thought to be long dead, something innate, animal, almost carnal, without even lifting a finger.

Is this who he is, he wonders? He finally feels something, for once, a sense of belonging and identity and… humanity.

It fills him with a sense of euphoria, while you view it with dread every time his Zetsu slips for just a moment. You always look over your shoulder during those times and start walking faster, but definitely not enough to deter him, and it will never be enough.

→ Darling Character Analysis.

Creative.

Chrollo has a deep curiosity about the world and appreciates a darling who shares this thirst for knowledge and intellectual growth. The form of expression doesn't matter to him, whether it's through writing, music, or eloquent speech. What truly matters to Chrollo is that his darling can communicate uniquely and authentically.

In a concerning manner, Chrollo imitates his darling’s behaviors to an extreme degree, devouring everything they do with an insatiable appetite. It doesn't matter how his darling presents their interests to him, whether it's straightforward or not. For instance, if his darling mentions their love for playing the violin after spending days alone with only Chrollo for company, the next day a brand new violin will mysteriously appear on the table beside their side of the bed. Chrollo will secretly learn to play the violin himself, the one he purchased as well as the one he gifted to his darling, practicing when they are not paying attention or are fast asleep.

As a result, his darling may find themselves obligated to reciprocate this behavior by learning Chrollo's favorite musical pieces.

He will experience immense joy, perhaps so much that he will hold them down on the bed and shower their face with kisses while they squirm and kick. Even when they eventually stop, he will continue, disregarding their pleas for him to stop.

As always, his strength is overpowering, leaving you with no action to do other than to say no.

At least there is some form of care after it is all over and done with, although it always somehow involves blending with whatever activity preceded it. For instance, if it was playing the violin, he would play you with both your favorite pieces on the gramophone he put near the bathtub while giving you a massage and preparing a relaxing bath for both of you.

It is painful, more so than the usual ache between your legs, because he pays attention to your desires and exploits them, even when he appears to be gentle. The pain lingers, no matter how hard you try to disconnect from everything happening around you.

He gives you everything you want, and it hurts because you always know why.

Bold.

A darling who never hides their intentions and just goes for it would spark some sort of admiration in Chrollo, especially if they use their boldness on him as a manipulation tactic.

He finds it entertaining most of all, but also there is a small part of him that is grateful for it because it makes his darling seem more human to him and not just something to own.

Boldness is quite a human trait, one that he so adores, especially with those he holds close like fellow members of the Troupe. It is also quite a trait that can easily be manipulated.

If you attempt to flirt to lower his guard, he will flirt back twice as hard. 

When everything is over and done with, he will admit he knows exactly what you are doing as he kisses you again, you not kissing him back this time, as good as your acting was, much to your horror.

Resourceful.

Chrollo sees himself above the rest of man, a God in his way, so a darling who is quite similar to him he would adore.

That is not to say he could not fall for someone the complete opposite of him, someone who is impulsive and wears their heart on their sleeve and everything else he does not and cannot do, but the probability is low compared to a darling that plans everything and keeps their cards close, much as he does.

That makes escape attempts though, quite common, considering how resourceful his darling can be, like using a file to saw the metal in one of his safes or the iron on their leg keeping them in his penthouse. But he loves it, it is one of his favorite things about them.

It is endless entertainment to him, a sort of fight against himself, albeit he is much, much stronger when it comes to wits most likely. You can think on your feet as much as you want, but so will he.

He will mirror their actions until the end.

Independent.

Much like his beloved's cleverness, he derives amusement from their self-reliance. He takes pleasure in dismantling their barriers bit by bit until they have no choice but to rely on him completely.

Indeed, Chrollo views his beloved as simultaneously superior and inferior to him.

There is no equality between them, only a shifting power dynamic that his beloved will soon discover. They will never be certain if his actions, like retrieving their favorite snack from the top shelf of the pantry, are expressions of love or gestures of mockery.

At times, it may be both. At times, it may be neither.

His thoughts remain inscrutable, and he revels in it.

Cunning.

Chrollo loves it when your eyebrows furrow, when you’re deep in focus, especially when you are trying to come up with an escape plan and not noticing him right behind you, because of that expression on your face.

It’s unholy, the way he worships you with sacrifices both living and not. He wants to ruin you, yet keep you as you are. So, after a long time of pondering, he concludes. He will remake your shape, not enough to completely alter it, but just enough for your walls to tumble down and let him in. That is why while he will let you try and try again to escape, he will still attempt to get into your head. He is like a poison, a parasite, imprisoning you in your fears, insecurities, and plans that are doomed to fail sooner or later. It is what he wants to be, but he also wants to be more. 

More and more he will be, and more and more he will take from you. It is only natural to want more than what is given, correct? 

It is how Chrollo and the other Troupe members survived so long in Meteor City. They take and take, not caring who they hurt because it is human instinct to want and seize. He will argue as such whenever you try to guilt him because you will soon know that he holds no shame in whatever he does. He is selfish, and he wants to stay that way. He wants you to do the same, so he loves it when you fight him or try to run away because he knows it is only nature. Nature will run its course regardless of who wants it to not. Nature does not care, so why should he? Why should you?

But he also wants you to not be as selfish as him, despite him knowing that it most likely will not be unless you are broken down enough. But that is fine, Chrollo tells himself because that time will eventually arise.

Mature.

Maturity is an elusive quality that characterizes Chrollo, yet eludes him as well. It ebbs and flows like a breeze, carrying seeds to unknown destinations, beyond the perception of onlookers. Unfortunately, you, the observer, are an unwilling participant in the multitude of games he plays and the various disguises he dons. Occasionally, Chrollo can act impulsively, adopting yet another facade acquired from others in the interludes of his life. However, there are moments when he patiently waits for the opportune time to strike, akin to a cunning serpent. But this outcome relies on your level of vigilance or innocence. Perhaps, one day, you'll find it best to surrender to his will. Chrollo eagerly anticipates that day.

Hardworking.

Chrollo feels a mix of jealousy and a desire for control when he sees someone truly dedicated to their pursuits. He wants to replicate their passion and adopt a similar persona. At the same time, he is intrigued by their determination and ambition, as he wants to understand every aspect of their character. This admiration creates a thrilling challenge for him, as he seeks to imitate their drive while also appreciating it. He wants to both admire and exploit this trait to engage in a game of cat and mouse until they submit. Perhaps it would be good to do just that, to prevent yourself from getting hurt again.

Observant.

Chrollo finds great pleasure in the thrill of the hunt, especially when his keen-eyed darling begins to notice subtle indications of being watched. These signs, carefully planted by Chrollo himself, make his darling increasingly cautious. For Chrollo, taking risks brings great rewards. Although these signs are intentional, they still hold, don't they? A lingering footstep behind them. A faint smile on a stranger's face, an unfamiliar figure lurking in an alley near his companion's residence. These signals confirm that they are being stalked, and Chrollo is entertained by the fact that their sharp instincts assure them that this is no mere coincidence or misunderstanding.

Logical.

Chrollo's beloved should possess some semblance of logic, even if it deviates from conventional understanding. The key lies in their thought process, rather than adherence to reason. This cognitive approach, be it driven by emotions or rationality, captivates Chrollo. They meticulously evaluate facts, evidence, and outcomes, exercising caution in moments of perceived advantage, as well as during bouts of insecurity and danger, where they must think quickly on their feet. This mental calculus can either serve them well or inadvertently lead to their downfall. They carefully weigh the pros and cons, thus fueling Chrollo's insatiable desire for the fun of the chase, which hinges upon ultimately catching his beloved in the act.

A Leader.

If you hold a position of leadership, whether at work or among friends, this situation will be even more perplexing and distressing for you. In an instant, you were no longer in charge, forcibly removed from your familiar surroundings and confined. Your authority, influence, and status, which held great significance, have been stripped away. You may experience a profound sense of helplessness and powerlessness as if all your hard work has been unjustly taken from you. Chrollo, as your captor, will seek to exert even more control over you if you possess the characteristic of leadership. He finds it ironic that you are now compelled to follow him, forever robbed of the opportunity to lead while you remain in captivity.

Confident Outside, Insecure Inside.

Chrollo takes great pleasure in this particular attribute, as a mere few words, be they soothing or otherwise, have the power to manipulate you effortlessly.

You find yourself compelled to dance and sing, controlled by invisible strings or some intangible force, as there seems to be no other recourse in this predicament. After enduring prolonged isolation, you will unquestioningly revere Chrollo's words, no matter how distorted they may be, treating them as a testament to be praised. And Chrollo eagerly anticipates the arrival of that day.

It instills fear in you, as both of you are aware that such a day will inevitably arrive.

With a few choice words, Chrollo can elicit tears or smiles from you, a feat that few others have managed to accomplish.

You despise it, while Chrollo utterly loves it. Intelligent.

Intelligence encompasses a wide range of abilities, making it possible for Chrollo to be drawn to various types. However, what truly captivates him is a darling who possesses either linguistic or interpersonal intelligence, or even better, both. He desires someone who can effortlessly decipher people's intentions, using words that ignite a fire within him, even if those words are aimed at him or others.

The type or types of intelligence his darling possesses greatly influences their relationship. How he presents himself in public, whether as a kind gentleman or someone who keeps his distance, depends on their emotional intelligence and intuition. Additionally, Chrollo finds it incredibly appealing when his darling shares a specific interest that is completely new to him. This not only allows him to learn something new but also adds another mask to his ever-expanding collection.

Someone who is emotionally intelligent, like his beloved, would pose a challenge for him to manipulate. They possess the ability to understand him better than most, making it all the more satisfying for Chrollo when they succumb to his desires. After all, as Chrollo often says, the greater the risk, the greater the reward.

→ Yandere MBTI: CAMS. (Cruel, Aware, Manipulative, Strict)

Chrollo possesses great skill in dismantling individuals but lacks the necessary expertise to reconstruct them according to his vision. Unfortunately, you have become an unwilling participant in his experiments. Share with him your deepest anguish and vulnerabilities. Chrollo also portrays himself as a universal remedy, claiming that he holds the power to alleviate all your suffering and resolve your troubles, provided you heed his advice.

However, he waits until he has captured you, and your defenses have crumbled. In that moment of vulnerability, when you are cut off from the world, consumed by sorrow, unable to eat or speak, he reveals himself as a deity. He extends his hand to you, leading you along a path he meticulously constructed. This path is filled with suffering, a never-ending cycle of waiting for both of you. But at the end of this dark tunnel lies Chrollo's ultimate desire: your affection.

What is your ultimate pain, what is your ultimate wish? I can provide anything and everything for you, beloved if you do not stray away from the light.

If you happen to encounter him in public before he abducts you, it is because he willingly allows you to do so, aiming to create a favorable impression that will prevent you from suspecting his true intentions. However, if you do find yourself growing suspicious, it is not without justification. Nevertheless, he will persist in attempting to dispel your doubts by showering you with more gifts and displaying gentlemanly behavior such as pulling out your chair and kissing your hand or inner wrist. Yet, everything appears excessively flawless, to the extent of inducing nausea. Everything is so… flawless all of the time, but only when you are around him and him alone. Ironically, despite Chrollo's desire to dissuade your wariness towards him, his tender and kind gestures only evoke fear.

Chrollo effortlessly switches between portraying himself as a divine figure and a malevolent force, adapting to the circumstances at hand. On one hand, he displays an uncanny perfection, never making a mistake and seemingly possessing an understanding of your thoughts and emotions even before you do. On the other hand, he reveals his true nature as pure evil by casually initiating a bet to see who can consume the most alcohol, leaving you as an unwilling participant in this game of his. As soon as you become intoxicated, he unveils himself as the embodiment of wickedness, groaning as your clothes rip off and you cry his mouth is on yours and he keeps murmuring things into your ear that are so much more terrifying than sweet and-

Panaceas are eternal, refusing to fade away, regardless of your preferences. And so is this situation with me, my dearest.

Chrollo often repeats the phrase that he would sacrifice his life for you. However, there is doubt as to whether he truly means it. His actions, whether they be subtle or overt, inflict daily harm upon you, both mentally and physically. He disguises his hurtful behavior as casual conversation, a serious one, and everything in between. Chrollo's self-centered nature raises the question of why he would make such a claim.

You remain unaware of his true intentions, as Chrollo holds the knowledge of what is genuine and what is fabricated close to his chest. He perpetuates this ambiguity, ensuring that you will never uncover the truth. Once again, Chrollo finds himself in a position of guilt, but the specific charges remain unknown. As an impartial judge, you can't discern between deceit and honesty when you have never been taught the difference. Chrollo, determined to maintain this state of uncertainty, ensures that the truth remains elusive, no matter what lengths he has to go to to make sure it stays that way.

Chrollo possesses the ability to assume various roles. He can portray himself as a reliable partner rather than a deceitful captor, a compassionate individual rather than a mass murderer, a savior rather than someone in need of rescue... The possibilities are endless. This charade is not merely a game to him, but a necessity to maintain his façade. Even if he desired to, he could never remove these disguises, as he is oblivious to his true identity, because who is he without his lies? Nothing? It is a sorrowful predicament for both me and him, you will think someday, one that may prompt you to ponder whether it is Stockholm Syndrome or your inherent empathy for others.

At some point, you will allow him to take what he desires, whether it be when he reaches a breaking point and loses control, or when you become desperate for any form of human interaction.

Whenever you are in need, call out my name. I will be there to provide whatever cure you desire for the ailment at hand.

→ Unique Qualities.

Yandere Type: 

Possessive.

Chrollo in one word would be selfish, and he himself would not deny that it suits him quite well.

Whatever he touches turns to gold in the most metaphorical sense. Whenever he sees something he wants, he will take it. Everything Chrollo takes either has rhyme and reason to it or none at all. He turns them into gold as a sign of who owns them. Even if you have fallen or will eventually fall prey to this touch. The golden touch immobilizes you so you never ever leave him. 

Like King Midas, he is selfish, and he takes pride in it. He is never humble in anything he does. That much is certain. He holds you in his arms at night like he knows your weight in gold, that he could never lose you as he lost himself all those years ago. His kisses are gentle when he wants them to be, or they can be as aggressive as he wants them to be. You’ll come to learn that it does not matter what you want, what matters is what Chrollo wants. Does not having a say in your hell hurt? Or does not having a choice help you justify to yourself that you must escape this?

Monitoring. (Watches From Afar / Direct Contact)

Really, it is Shalnark that does most of the work here, but it is still worth mentioning, especially since what Chrollo cannot get through traditional stalking alone, he asks a very teasing Shalnark to get for him. Though, if Shalnark fails, Feitan is put to the task, much to Feitan’s quite less than subtle annoyance, not that he would ever voice it. Through this trio, the work is separated into three strategies.

Chrollo’s way of finding information is as classic as it comes. Either he is observing you go about your usual day, to that coffee shop you visit before going to work, to the library you frequent on the weekends, to a park you like walking in to see the birds and to get a change of scenery while you read, or he is inside your home, looking through drawers, sampling some leftovers even from your fridge, and making a literal list of things to buy you either later or in the present moment and things to take with him when he inevitably steals you away. Shalnark’s way comes through the internet, through placing cameras in your home and showing Chrollo the footage day in and day out, and perhaps even making an online friend of you if you are that social with other people. To him, it’s all child’s play, especially with finding family members and friends of yours for later, to perhaps ask them questions under the guise of a fellow friend of yours even. But the information that neither Shalnark nor Chrollo can get from stalking alone relies on Feitan, which is where all the finding people you know and love trickle down and puddle at the bottom of this sort of vial of differing plans. This is a last resort, sort of, because there are better things that Feitan can be doing, really, but he is nothing less than loyal to Chrollo and the other Spiders, so he’ll find people who may know the answers his boss was looking for.

He does not blame Chrollo, because if the information was something even Shalnark could not find, it is something so secretive that it could metaphorically be so beneath the waves that it is on the bottom of the ocean floor.

Feitan takes on the role of the more experienced diver because he wants to make Chrollo happy.

Thankfully for most of those you know, only a maximum of perhaps five people are flicked off before you are brought to whatever penthouse Chrollo has bought for the next month or so. The rest can continue with their lives as it was, not that Feitan cares or Shalnark cares or Chrollo cares, except for poor, poor you.

Removing Nuisances. (Murder Likelihood: 8/10)

Similarly to gathering information about you, dealing with rivals follows a similar sort of hierarchy. Chrollo follows them, albeit with far less care and perhaps even stealing a few things along the way, if the rivals are rich enough, though that is quite rare to happen. Instead, he would try to threaten them through anonymous emails or letters, perhaps even with a photo of them sleeping thrown into the mix. But if that does not work, Shalnark is up next, digging up past searches and buyings that the rival perhaps regrets or wants to remain hidden. It could be anything, really, and soon this information will start to spread like a flame until the rival’s reputation is utterly ruined. If the rival is still stubborn about wanting to be romantically involved with you, Feitan is last, burying a corpse underground that looks far from the human it once was by the end of it all, and Feitan, unsurprisingly, likes this sort of business rather than simply lying in wait for a friend of yours to unfortunately cross his path.

Perhaps even Chrollo will join Feitan in this session or sessions. It sometimes happens, when Chrollo is too pent up or feeling especially angry, although he hides it well with a smile that is a bit too wide, at this rival in particular. By the end of it, when both he and Feitan look like they took a bath in blood with their clothes on, Chrollo laughs, and Feitan snickers. He feels good, both of them do. Maybe this is why Chrollo is so taken with you, Feitan wonders. The power and control that comes with you… it’s utterly addicting, isn’t it?

Adam and Eve. (Absolute Isolation) (Kidnapping Likelihood: 10/10)

Before he takes you away, Chrollo makes sure that whatever he cannot replace he takes with him. This includes memorabilia, photos, family heirlooms if you have any, and even annotated novels you have on your bookshelf with notes sticking out of them like sore thumbs. He manages to take it all away easily, just like he does with you. Chrollo, despite how selfish he is, still wants in some capacity to make you happy. In your “adapting stage”, you may be able to hide away from him in the bathroom and lock the door, but at least you will have the choice to continue whatever hobbies you had before that Chrollo allows you to do while you are self-isolating. 

He sees this small reason for you not to hate him entirely as a win. A triumph followed by many others to come.

Collector’s Habit. (Comfortable Imprisonment / Chains + Cages)

Chrollo’s penthouse is lined with things both of significance to him and you. Almost all of it is stuff that he has stolen, however, not that he cares. The paintings lined up in the dining room, the many pretty dresses put in your closet and you are forced to wear, the jewelry that he clasps onto your neck and fingers and wrists like chains, all of them are stolen in some capacity or another. 

The things that he had stolen from your home all look like they belong there, almost. Your favorite pink beret placed next to a porcelain plate of macaroons and fruit a note telling you to get ready for a date later in the evening, an old photo of you placed in a frame that ought to be at least three hours worth of your salary, your most cherished books all lined up next to Chrollo’s own, all the covers and sizes somewhat similar to one another that it almost drives you mad. It brings Chrollo comfort, while it brings you ire. 

Possibly, you’ll read one of his Dostoevsky pieces when you think he is gone, or you’ll try on one of his many fur coats when it gets too chilly or when you are curious. But curiosity always finds a way to kill the cat, because when you think you are not going to be caught, Chrollo finds a way to sneak up behind you and simply observe, smirking, even when you see him.

Attention-Seeking.

Chrollo has always been one to utterly enjoy being in the limelight. He loves acting parts, playing parts as classy as a Prince Charming to a part as scheming as a villain that has locked the princess in a tower. You get both, the unlucky person you are. He gives you roses and proclaims poems and confessions of absolute love and undying loyalty, but you then remember that he is the one that trapped you here, to begin with.

This life that was forced upon you is a fairytale very close to cracking and falling apart, but never does.

You are forced to be a helpless maiden waiting for a knight in shining armor to rescue her, but unfortunately for you, that knight is also the very evildoer in this story. So, you try to be your own knight, your own prince, but it will never be as close or as real as an actual hero. So, your attempts fail, regardless of how long they were in the making. You are not strong enough, not fast enough, and you simply cannot write your own ending in this whimsical tale if Chrollo is always aware of them.

But you come up with a plan that takes weeks upon weeks and months upon months for it to bear fruit. 

You'll comply with his desires and make your getaway when he least anticipates it. Thus, you're compelled to dance with Chrollo, flawlessly and without objection, to safeguard your plan. However, with each movement, it feels as though nails are penetrating your foot, for you're uncertain if Chrollo is aware of your actions, and it fills you with immense fear.

But it is too late to back out of this, so you keep on doing this waltz.

Eliminating Rivals. 

The basement, as always, is filled with dust and dirt with insects both alive and dead scattered on the floor next to Feitan’s equipment. Chrollo does not mind it, though, despite him still wearing the suit he wore when he was following you to the train station, the route you usually took to get back from your best friend’s house to your place. He does not like her, but he decides to let her still do whatever with her life as she pleases, unlike the person currently zip-tied to one of the rusty chairs with broken legs. As long as she does not try to seek to be more than friends with you, she’ll be safe from harm. Even though Chrollo’s gut is telling him that she will try, that she will kiss you, say “I love you” to you and maybe go on top of you in bed and-

He tries not to think about it, he is already behind schedule enough as it is, though he could just make Feitan do the work by himself. He tries not to think about it because he has to start preparing his penthouse for your arrival soon to come. He has already purchased some new comforter sets for the bedroom, along with some of the skincare products he knows you use in the bathroom. He’s busy, too busy to involve himself with something other than torturing this man and getting back on track. He focuses on the scene ahead, trying not to think about that friend of yours or the barista who always looks at you for a tad bit too long. If he let his emotions and not logic control him, he would have murdered half this town already and left love notes on their headstones.

He looks at the man, covered in his own blood, his own vomit, his own feces from being confined there for days before Chrollo arrived, deathly thin from starvation and dehydration. From what Feitan told him, Feitan gouged out one eye one day and the other eye the next day, leaving him blind and weeping, his vocal cords far-reaching past their limit, crying out gibberish like some sort of animal, something not too conscious enough of its surroundings to be anything considered even near human.

“Fei, do you hear that?”

“...I do.”

Sexual Drive: 5/10.

Chrollo knows most of what there is to know about sex, but not for his own pleasure. He uses this knowledge mainly in intelligence gathering, when Shalnark, Feitan, and even Pakunoda are not able to get the information the Troupe needs for their next heist. He holds sex with little to no emotional value because of this, since his love for the other Troupe members is high above what little admiration he could possibly hold for those people that he subtly interrogates while fucking them as gently or as hard as they want him to, whispering in their ear when they are feeling their most euphoric, asking them what dons are trading with each other and with what, asking them how the president of this company makes so much when the value of their imports and exports don’t exactly match up, asking them how exactly many secret passageways this mansion has… it’s endless, really, how much information he can get out of them. The human body is so vulnerable, especially when pain mixes with pleasure or pleasure mixes with pain or pain is alone or please is alone. Chrollo is grateful for it.

But when it comes to sex with you, Chrollo then finally sees the emotional side of this spectrum. Your bodies bond and become one, melting into one another as you both moan out each other’s name, lovingly yours and lovingly his.

This development does not surprise him because he does want an emotional bond with you in some sense of the word, he wants you to worship him just as much as he does with you.

Let us go, shall we? Before you could answer, his hand grabs your wrist, his grip making it impossible for someone like you to break away. We… have plenty to talk about and do, correct?

Violence Towards Darling: 3/10.

Don’t take this as a sign that he will not use violence on you at all. Believing that Chrollo's violent tendencies towards you are limited to slapping or ignoring you is a naive assumption. You soon realize that attempting to strike him is futile due to his lightning-fast reflexes. Fighting back against Chrollo will not resolve anything. Instead, you come to understand that he wants you to be like a pet, constantly performing tricks and obediently following his commands.

You wonder if he would also display you like a trophy. Uncertain, you contemplate whether or not you want to find out. Eventually, a few nights later, you dream of a life without Chrollo's constant control, where he does not touch you possessively and parade you around expensive events. You recognize that you are nothing more than his lapdog, his pet, his trophy.

However, Chrollo claims to see something more in you. Is he being genuine in his belief? Do you really desire to uncover the truth?

Violence Towards Others: 8/10.

In his search for you, he maintains his usual calm demeanor, though his eyes reveal his inner turmoil. Anger fills his vision, overshadowing any light. Surely, you couldn't have gone too far. He frantically scans the penthouse until he finds you on the balcony... in the company of someone else.

“Feeling intrusive, are we?”

He pays no mind to the identity of this person, although it's likely they are a former lover or at the very least, a love interest. Your declarations of love and reciprocated kisses leave no room for doubt. How they managed to reach this height is irrelevant to him.

Without uttering a single word, he opens his book, channeling an unseen force from his hands to your ill-fated companion, causing them to plummet to the ground amidst screams from both of you.

After a few moments of tears, mumbled apologies, and the utterance of their name, he informs you that a serious discussion will take place later. With that, you silently follow him back inside. He will contact Shizuku to handle the cleanup of the body in due time.

Vanilla / Kinky

Favorite Kinks:

Begging.

Both inside and outside the bedroom, Chrollo likes having you beg, from you begging him to let you orgasm to you begging him to get you that new book in that series you were quite interested in before you got stolen away. It’s a power dynamic no doubt, it makes him feel wanted by you, needed by you, loved by you. That’s all he wants, really, your love and devotion and for you to promise to be his sun and moon and stars, for you to say he is bigger and more important to me than the sky, for you to hold him, for him to hold you.

No matter how much time passes, how many different places you both stay in and leave, how many countries you visit for leisure or for Chrollo's next big scheme, he refuses to break this unhealthy pattern, even for your sake. He enjoys this routine, so why would he alter it? He will occasionally tease you for being rather selfish, even as you both grow older and wiser and your hairs both white and your skin wrinkly. He will even say it to you when your corpse is resting peacefully in its coffin, as he sheds tears for the first time in many years.

Every time please, Chrollo, please, I… comes out of your mouth, it sounds like to him, the most beautiful martial vow. 

He locks each and every one into the deepest crevices of his heart like unwilling prisoners, despite how small and cold and dead his said heart is, at least to you. They don’t want to stay, but they have to because I want them there in remembrance. Just like you. Poetic, is it not?

Voyeurism. 

The screen in front of him showed you coming out of the shower, your body dripping with soapy water with a towel on your body that barely covered anything and a smaller towel covering your hair that was put up in a clip. Shalnark placing cameras all around your place made things much easier to know things about you that he could not find out through traditional stalking alone. He is grateful for him.

Slowly, as he smiled, one of his hands went into his pants, then his boxers as he caressed the half-hard thing beneath them both. He kept groaning as it got harder and harder, his breathing getting faster and faster. He is not sure how much time had gone by, but he knows that there was now liquid, slow and warm, running down his legs and is all over his hand, and as always, you were none the wiser.

Oral. (Receiving)

Your knees are on the floor, having been there so long it hurts. Your neck is curved backward and your mouth is in pain from his large manhood in there like an unwanted intruder, as you desperately gag and choke and cry. The only reason you have not successfully gotten away is because one of his hands is grabbing the back of your head and pulling you every time you pull, hopelessly still trying to fight.

Your hands are tied behind your back with silk to not damage the skin of your wrists, while you desperately try to claw your way out of them.

You’re in the clothing that he wants you to wear, as usual, though calling it clothing would be an overstatement as it hardly covers anything. A black thong with a short skirt, along with a low-cut bralette. As always, you have no say in the matter, and even though you are unable to utter a word, he showers you with affectionate words, as fake as they seem.

Favorite Parts:

Your Thighs.

It is more of a comfort thing than anything else, really. The way that it is one of the softest parts of you, one of the meatiest parts of you, and, most of all, the easiest parts of you to grab and hold and kiss and press hickeys into and fuck.

It’s only natural for a thief to want to keep their prized possessions close to them, is it not, my darling? 

While Chrollo still places you all of his mementos and diamonds and paintings among the many, many other things he has hidden away in his current penthouse, seeing you as better than all of those things combined, he still sees you, in some ways, as something to be sanctioned, whether it be for your own safety or just his pure, unadulterated selfishness, or perhaps both.

So, he holds onto your thighs at all times pretty much, squeezing the flesh for either attention or just because he needs some security that you are still there with him, no matter how close you physically are to him.

He will occasionally rest his head on your lap, reciting his book aloud while you are obliged to listen. He never dozes off because he is too cautious for that, although he yearns for it. His desire to lie down and have you run your fingers through his hair as he gradually drifts to sleep almost surpasses all his other needs. It may sound like a fantasy for him, no pun intended.

However, it would be a nightmare for you, whether he falls asleep or not. But as always, Chrollo hardly cares. If you dare to object, your longer skirts, shorts, and one pair of sweatpants will vanish for approximately a month, only to be replaced by outrageously short clothes that barely qualify as attire.

They’re soft, just like your lips, your voice, just everything else about you, you, you. It’s the parts that most perfectly describe you, he’ll say, forcing you to tolerate all his touches because his hand is not going anywhere, just like the rest of me, sweetling.

Just stay still and let me see how plush you are just for me, alright?

If he ignores all the goosebumps and the shivers, he can assume that this is what heaven feels like. It must be, right, dearest?

Your Collarbone.

Despite everything else about him, Chrollo can be a sort of traditionalist when he wants to be. This applies quite rarely though, only really affecting the relationship he has with you, both inside and outside of the bedroom.

He likes how the bones stick out, the crevices just so perfect for him to slide the tip of his fingers across, just so perfect for him to kiss and bite, just so perfect to hang necklaces from so they are on a sort of diagonal and reflect the light, making them shine and making them highlight the hickeys that have been pressed into them, right below them, and right above them…

He forces you to wear all kinds of accessories and low-cut shirts that he can find, not caring how much money it would cost, just to see some diamond-encrusted choker on your neck. He says in the calmest voice he can muster that it is no big deal, darling, just trust me and I got this for you and you alone, now why don’t you be a sweetheart and put it on? You might think that a choker and a collar are essentially the same, as they both tightly grip the neck like a suffocating hold. However, Chrollo pays no mind to this, as owners don't concern themselves with their pets realizing they're wearing such a sign of possession.

Your Feet.

Chrollo appreciates art in his own unique way, specifically when it comes to sculpting and realism. He finds your feet to be truly exquisite, along with the rest of you. Despite your attempts to ignore it or cover them up, he has a clear fondness for your feet. Your toes are round, your heels are perfectly shaped, and your soles fit perfectly in his hands when he places heeled shoes on them. In secret, he also enjoys the scent of your feet, although he would never admit it. He would rather die than confess. 

Your feet are cute and can become sweaty and sticky, making them easy to hold onto, just like your thighs. 

Those traits really remind him after you orgasm, with you of course begging repeatedly for it a few moments before he lets you.

It's a hidden pleasure for him, even if you were to discover it, he would keep it to himself. You won't be able to get any information from him. If you do happen to find out, don't be surprised when a substantial portion of your jewelry drawer is filled with anklets.

His Fingers.

Chrollo admires his hands more than most other parts of his body. He trims his fingernails every two weeks, putting hand cream every time he steps out of the bath, never skipping this routine of his. The reason he admires his hands so much is that despite all the bloodshed and other dirty acts he does with them, they remain on the outside clean. It boosts his ego, in a way.

There are just so many uses for them, he loves flipping the pages of his favorite novels with them, he loves cutting food for both you and himself with them, he loves squeezing your thigh as either a warning or a sign of love… there are just endless possibilities, at least from his perspective.

But his new favorite thing is to fuck your clit with them, and yours alone.

Is it a privilege, then, that only yours can bring him such joy? Whether you believe it to be so or not, it holds no significance, for Chrollo finds pleasure in this, and only his satisfaction matters, given that he is the one who has taken you captive.

Please, Chrollo, fuck me, fuck me, fuck me, I can’t take this anymore I-

His movements are flawlessly executed, almost unfairly so. They are deliberate yet unhurried, demanding your submission. However, he will only grant you this pleasure if you plead for it. The act of begging will consume several minutes, perhaps even a minimum of two, leaving you in a state of desperation. Meanwhile, he will revel in your discomfort, relishing the power he holds over you. This perverse satisfaction is what he adores the most.

As you wish.

Inevitably, you will find yourself succumbing to your desires, unable to resist the overwhelming pleasure he provides. Despite your stubbornness, your willpower will eventually crumble under the weight of his expertise.

He derives immense pleasure from knowing that he alone possesses the ability to bring you such ecstasy. This knowledge fuels his ego, heightening his sense of self-importance.

His Words.

Chrollo has an insatiable thirst for knowledge, but he also derives great pleasure from imparting knowledge and amusingly embarrassing others. And when it comes to you, he takes it to another level.

He constantly showers you with compliments, comparing you to famous heroines like Juliet and Ophelia from classic literature. He insists that you possess the same beauty as any damsel in distress from those timeless tales. To prove his point, he even offers to acquire paintings of these fictional princesses and damsels for you to admire and compare yourself to.

Wanting a break from his constant attention, you agree to his proposal. Besides, you get the bonus of owning some exquisite artwork. What could go wrong, right?

Well, it turns out to be a colossal mistake.

Upon waking up, you find yourself surrounded by what feels like an entire museum filled with paintings of fictional damsels, duchesses, princesses, and queens. The overwhelming presence of these artworks threatens to suffocate you. And to make matters worse, Chrollo insists on meticulously going through each painting one by one, forcing you to endure this ordeal that could very well last for days.

Your legs resemble hers, your lips resemble hers, your feet resemble hers... every aspect of your physique and the muse's physique that he remarks upon, leaves you feeling incredibly exposed, more so than ever before.

The duration of this process is absolutely exasperating. It leaves you feeling as defenseless as a lamb anticipating its fate in the hands of a butcher.

His Knowledge.

Chrollo truly treasures his knowledge, viewing it as divine nectar from the heavens, if indeed it exists. This belief is so strong that he occasionally overestimates it, taking every opportunity to display it in a way that impresses you more than anything else he does, both inside and outside of the bedroom. Whether intentionally or not, he will state the obvious, like pointing out that the creature you're observing in the rose garden during your “date” is not a slug, but a snail. 

It frustrates you, but you acknowledge that it could be worse–he could forbid you from venturing outdoors altogether. 

Surely, that counts for something, doesn't it? 

…Doesn’t it?

Fantasies. (Consent / Non-Con) (Coercion / Brute Force)

If one were to make a comparison, they would compare you to a piece of art so beautiful, that it is instinct to witness, praise, and worship until their bodies all turn to mere dust, in which they will be swept away by those alive who do not want your refinement to be stained by those who have passed on. For what is a beauty without a beholder? Chrollo will gladly take up that role, as he is the only one worthy of seeing such a piece. You, leaning on the pillows, legs crossed, hair put up in a neat bun, wearing makeup that he has said he likes on you before, looking up at him like he has come to bless you with a mere glimpse of the divine power he holds, wearing the black lingerie he chose for you to wear this evening, made of lace with patterns of roses scattered about.

This is his welcome home gift, from both himself and you. He may have requested that you could partake in this, but since you are doing it without any complaint but instead loving doing the task at hand, he could consider him soon becoming one with your body for the evening to be an award from you for all the work he has done for the Troupe these past few days.

If such a prize is laid before him, ripe for the taking, why wouldn’t he? So, without so much as uttering another word, he starts to undress as you watch, a mix of genuine joy and interest laid out on your face. He hasn’t even touched you yet, and with this simple act, you are bound to him with the invisible thread of lust.

When his boxers are all the way down, he approaches, and you don’t blink, wanting to take it all in. Shall the fun start? When your lips meet, all reservations that you once had dissolve, as few as they are now.

(But don’t think Chrollo respects your boundaries completely when it comes to sex; if you deny him enough, over the course of months and months, he will break his composure and show you where you belong; underneath him.)

→ Strengths.

Realities. (Your Own, His Avow) (Patient / Impatient)

The being that is above you in this bed is unlike any human you have ever met before. His looks and personality are all artificially crafted, like some automaton made to resemble actual living things, but do not stray far from their roots, what they were made for, and what they were made of. I’m real, you think, I’m real. Chrollo is not.

He’s aware of everything you do. Every step you take. Every word you say.

He is aware. He possesses knowledge of all things, much like the god he feigns to be. His understanding of emotions is as keen as his logical reasoning, resulting in a situation of dread that pertains solely to you.

It instills fear within you because he holds the key to all knowledge, while you remain in not-so-blissful ignorance.

→ Weaknesses.

Lotus Eater. (Dreamy Idleness)

Chrollo, despite his attempts to appear superior to others, is not without his flaws. If those around him stroke his ego, he becomes overly confident. Yet, if one were to try the opposite approach, it would have the same effect as boosting his ego. He is cursed with arrogance, always believing he is superior to others, even some members of the Troupe. Perhaps you can use this knowledge to your advantage. Faking affection could lower his guard and further inflate his narcissism. It is a strategic move, preferable to engaging in a physical fight that you cannot possibly win. 

Therefore, when you believe you have the opportunity to escape when his guard seems lowered enough that he won't immediately pursue you, you run. At that moment, his facade will crack, his eyes will grow emptier, and the hollow husk chasing after you will not resemble the Chrollo you once knew.

→ Daily Life.

Welcome. (Day One)

Chrollo remains a mystery begging to be left unsolved.

He rises at his usual hour each morning, and it's a rarity to witness him actually sleeping. His breakfast consistently consists of sausage and eggs, seasoned solely with salt and pepper, as he avoids other spices. He purchases fresh bread from whichever local bakery happens to be closest for the week or a few days ahead. Occasionally, if you're fortunate, he may bring back something sweet while out and about, such as a chocolate-filled croissant or a cherry jam-filled danish. However, trust, whether in platonic or romantic relationships, is something that must be earned.

Interestingly, it appears that regardless of the circumstances, Chrollo seems to possess a certain level of trust that you won't make any foolish choices. On your initial day in this penthouse, he simply greeted you, patiently waiting until the effects of the drugs wore off, allowing you to cry on the bed until your tears ran dry. He comforted you, softly shushing you and gently caressing your cheeks with his thumb.

Yet, he never becomes too intimate.

Was that his motive? Is that why he opted to masquerade as a compassionate gentleman rather than a captor? Instead of asserting his authority, he chose to console you, demonstrating that such solace could be snatched away in an instant. You were oblivious to his true intentions. On that initial day, you wept more than any other day, the taste of mint on Chrollo's breath and the aroma of coffee still etched in your memory. He would inflict further harm, and for the sake of your sanity, you believe it is preferable for him to remain an enigma, shielding you from the repulsive monster lurking beneath his attractive facade.

What Could Be. (And What Is)

Strangely enough, there are still parts of your life after Chrollo has captured you that would still sort of count as normal enough that you could turn the other way and ignore all other cosmic horrors that are happening in the general vicinity. You could still decide what you want to eat and drink that day, what to watch, what to read, what time to wake up and what time to go to bed, what to write in your diary (that not-so-strangely has its lock missing now), listen to the morning birds or to the music that Chrollo allows you to listen to (which is most of it, shockingly)... the list really is endless, really, aside from a few things that you forget sometimes, much to future you’s horror.

But sometimes you forget on purpose, to divulge in the fantasy Chrollo has carefully crafted for both of you, either to fool him or your walls really are as broken down as he wants them to be.

He finds it nice when you ask him questions about whatever place he has rented for the two of you for the time being, the location at hand most likely being related to the Troupe’s plans to steal whatever is of value. He likes to show off, and to listen to him talk for hours requires the patience of a saint.

→ Punishments. (No Punishments / Tortuous Punishments)

Welcome Again. (Failed Departure)

The penthouse looked to be the same after you ran out the entrance door that you lockpicked. The fireplace was still lit. There was still a smell of peppermint in the air along with some scent of coffee, lattes maybe. Everything looks the same, just as it always has. It nearly scares you more, how calm and warm this place is, than the hand that has a grip on your wrist so tight that you feel like he will dislocate it in the very least.

But he does not look angry, but that smile is not good at all either.

He does not say anything as he closes the door behind him, turning the lock on the door so it will remain that way. He does not say anything as he continues to drag you, albeit a bit more tight in his grip now that you are within his grasp once again. Whatever you say goes in one ear and out the other, and you know better than to struggle and scream, because you do not want this day to result in yet another bloodbath, and it would be useless anyway, even if someone came to rescue you. That is why, like the sort of pet you were trained to be, you bite your tongue and obey. He seems to not be angry now, but who knows what awaits you once you are in the bedroom, where most talks and actions are the consequences of your supposed crimes. You can’t really breathe, but that is alright. Chrollo will help you every step of the way after all, as the dutiful owner he has come to be.

Perhaps a pet is all you will be.

He wants you to look up at him like some god, some deity that you worship with all your being. But you can’t, not yet, and Chrollo knows that. Perhaps some methods unknown to you but known to him can help, can’t it?

He hopes so for your sake, but what do you hope for, wish for? You don’t know, and maybe never will.

Venus Fly Trap. (Temptations of a Liar)

Chrollo is well aware of the diverse array of predatory flowers, each manifesting in its own unique way. Perhaps you too possess such characteristics, with your alluring fragrance and honeyed speech, deceiving him into a false sense of security before stripping it all away. However, there is one crucial detail you seem to have overlooked. What transpires when a venus fly trap ensnares a prey that surpasses its own size and devours its own kind and others, rather than the typical fly it ensnares?

Undoubtedly, they suffer. Yet it appears that this lesson has eluded you thus far, hasn't it?

You have displayed kindness, sweetness, and a willingness to comply, within certain limits. Undoubtedly, you possess some degree of skill, though not enough to deceive him, the enigmatic masked orchestrator of this theatrical production.

Therefore, it is without much remorse that he renders you motionless with delicate silk and persuasive words that possess the potential to sting, should you ever dare to push him too far.

However, deep down you are aware of the truth, just as he is aware too. If he doesn't take a firm stance, what other undesirable situations will you find yourself in? With a single hand, he flips open the book, while using the other to shush you.

“A shame,” He says, turning the pages. “A crying shame, really. The sky is so lovely tonight… Who knows when we will get this scenery again, hmm?”

You don’t know what he will do to you. 

…Does he?

→ Quotes.

Hello.

Greetings. It is truly an honor to meet you face to face like this at long last, [First]. There is no need to introduce yourself to me as I already know who you are. That, and… hmm. That, and I think you are not all there right now. Please, I recommend relaxing and listening to what I have to say. But just to make sure, try to speak to me… as expected.

Chat: Ballet.

All dancers must put themselves fully into whatever moves they do. I suppose that can be the same thing for you and me.

Chat: Athenaeum.

Libraries and archives are some of the places I enjoy going to the most. Maybe if you continue behaving, I’ll take you to one nearby.

Chat: Reimbursement. 

Quid pro quo, darling; I assume you know the best ways to compensate me for the broken locks?

When It Rains.

The rain is perfect for a day of staying inside. Though, hehe… you’ll be indoors no matter what, right? Good thing you have me as company today. …What do you mean? I leave sometimes, mainly to get you things might I add. I suggest being more grateful if you don’t want that koala plush to disappear.

After It Rains.

Sigh… the smell of morning dew and the sounds of birds chirping… simply marvelous. Let’s go dance on the balcony, but be sure not to get your new shoes wet and slip. I would hate to have to bring Machi again.

When Thunder Strikes.

Aw, are you going to cling to me so cutely whenever there is a storm? I wouldn’t mind that, I’ll even give you more blankets to hide in if you wish. …Wait, dearest, come back… sigh… of course she hid under the bed again.

When It Snows.

So cold out there, isn’t it? If you ask nicely, I’ll give you back your socks and slippers. Go on.

When the Sun Is Out.

Let’s go on a walk tonight when it’s not so hot out. The sunset’s beauty will only be second to your own.

Good Morning.

Good morning, love, I made coffee. Feel free to use one of the creamers I got you, and there is oat milk near them somewhere in the fridge… Hm? I have never really been a fan of sweet drinks, so black coffee tastes good to someone like me. 

Good Afternoon.

Sure, you can cook lunch. But allow me to cut the ingredients and heat sources. We know how you used them last time.

Good Evening.

It’s so quiet you can only hear the crickets chirping. It’s quite a romantic atmosphere, isn't it?

Good Night.

Ah ah ah. No bed for you yet. Give me a goodnight kiss first. No, you can’t sleep on the couch either. Or the floor. If you keep refusing, I’m going to ask you more questions than yesterday. …That’s better.

About Chrollo: Tattoos.

There is something comforting about them, I think. No matter what the person does to reject it, it will stay. The permanence of such an act should also be what you should be. Now, bite me again and you will sooner than later find yourself in a tattoo parlor. Am I understood?

About Chrollo: Lies.

Don’t say that, my love. I’m not lying to you, I’m just picking what parts of the truth to show and hide. There is no harm in that, I think. 

About Us: Home.

This place is much more human with you in it. Do with that as you wish.

About Us: Cull.

Life and death have a sort of agreement. A contract if you will. The more lives taken by your hands, the more your own life is put at risk. Quite poetic. Like everything else in life, there must be balance.

About Us: Matrimony.

Being bound by just a few words… The very idea is beautiful in my opinion. If you want, we can get married. It is not like anyone else is going to put that pretty ring finger of yours to good use, anyway.

About Us: Panoply.

Anything you want you shall receive. Just say the word. Unless it is already here, which is a possibility.

About You: Humanity.

The human psyche is truly fascinating, don’t you agree? All it takes is a few words or a few actions and it all comes crumbling down. Like you.

About You: Epiphany. 

Not a man, not ten men, not a hundred men can ever provide me with the same joy you give me. You’re special, you know? You make me feel… alive.

Something to Share.

“Be glad as children, as birds in the sky.” A quote from Fyodor Dostoevsky. But… birds are constantly migrating to better places, so really, are they grateful and glad for the gift of life?

Interesting Things.

I see you are doing experiments with pH again. Just be sure to not use all of the vinegar, please. And no, vinegar cannot melt a door, for the final time. 

About Nobunaga.

He thinks more with his heart than his head. But he means well for the Troupe. Or himself when he makes someone call to order takeout for him. 

About Feitan.

I learned a lot of torture methods from him. He truly is the best at what he does. As for social skills… not so much. But everyone has their ups and downs, and that is Fei’s.

About Machi.

One of the most loyal people I have ever met. Also one of the most in tune with their wants and needs. If she thinks of something to say, she’ll say it without a doubt. She is very transparent when it comes to that kind of thing.

About Hisoka.

Hisoka… he is very… out there, isn’t he? But he is valuable to me, so I give him free rein to do whatever he wishes.

About Phinks.

One of the physically strongest. Though also one of the only ones to ever get a laugh out of me. Shizuku once asked him why he did not have any eyebrows, and the way he stopped talking and stared at the ceiling caused us all to snicker. Feitan did earn a blow to the head by the end of it because Phinks does not hit women… He is much more gentlemanly than he appears.

About Shalnark.

When it comes to computers and such, Shalnark is the person to do it. He was the one to convince me to get a newer phone model and taught me how it worked. He kept chuckling as he did, and every question I had asked earned a wide smile in response but no actual answer. He says I am an… “old man at heart…?”

About Franklin.

He is not the most talkative one out there, but if ever comes to games to decide matters, he is the one for the job. Once, Uvogin betted fifty thousand Jenny if he ever beat me in chess. Franklin managed to almost win in the end, but he gave up at the last moment. He said he couldn’t bear to do that to me.

About Shizuku.

At long last, she at least remembers my name. She is quite charming in her own way… I see why Franklin took on a sort of caretaker role for her.

About Pakunoda.

Paku… Paku is one of the sweetest people I know. Whenever I didn’t feel well, she was the first one to come and help me feel better. She even fed me her rations, regardless of the tough times we were put through. I should ask her to make me soup again, I have missed the taste of it…

About Bonolenov.

When he trusts you enough, he has quite a humorous and proud side. He is very proud of his culture, and as someone who did not have one as a child, I find it very admirable.

About Uvogin.

I swear he could drink enough beer to kill a whale and still not be satisfied. The same goes for fights. Any challenge goes, whether that is an eating or video game contest.

About Kortopi.

His copying ability is quite useful, and Nobunaga wanted to give him a haircut using his sword. He declined of course, much to Nobunaga’s disappointment. …Hm? A copy of you? No, you are priceless, and nothing can ever compare, even a version of you that does everything I ask. There is a charm to your disobedience. That, and Kortopi cannot make living copies.

More About Chrollo: I.

Come. I got you some books for us to read together. But before you touch them, I must tell you that you can only read them while on my lap. Isn’t that such a great deal, dearest?

More About Chrollo: II.

“Better to reign in Hell than serve in Heaven…” Yes, I can see the parallels between this line and myself. Is that why you decided to show me this? …Oh, you just wanted an excuse to call me Lucifer again. Do what you wish, I suppose. But please put that book back on the shelf where it came from when you are done. You know I hate it when you mess up the categories. …Hm? Don’t do that, or I won’t get you any more mochi. …You know my threats aren’t empty, my dear.

More About Chrollo: III.

…Do you need something from me, dearest? No? …Why am I asking? So you just happen to be pressing your chest against my arm for no apparent reason? …I see. Well, if you want my attention so badly, who am I to refuse?

More About Chrollo: IV.

Yes, that note is from me. That gift is also from me. Open it, please. …You should try wearing that set next time. Your thighs will stand out better. You were the one that was asking last night, not me. Ah, you are feeling rather adventurous these past few weeks, aren’t you? …Looking for something? Is this it? You know, I’m disappointed in you, to put it frankly. I thought you were coming around. You know what happens now, don’t you?

More About Chrollo: V.

Time has certainly sped by, hasn’t it? Let me give you a word of advice. No matter what happens, always remember those who have gotten you to where you are now. As a result, your situation can prove to be much less isolating that way. …Yes, that includes me. For when you are alone, my dear, your mind always finds a way to eat you whole.

Chrollo’s Hobbies.

Leading an orchestra and executing a grand theft operation share fundamental principles. It is imperative to maintain a commanding presence, ensuring that others adhere to your lead. Collaboration becomes the pivotal factor in achieving triumph during such endeavors.

Chrollo’s Troubles.

I find it perplexing how some individuals effortlessly navigate life with a serene demeanor, rooted in their unwavering sense of self. Maybe it stems from a twinge of envy, or perhaps there's another elusive element at play. But being envious is part of being human, is it not?

Favorite Food: Black Squid Ink Carbonara.

It is briny, and salty, like the sea. Quite refreshing as well, especially paired with homemade pasta. Only the best quality is allowed. …I am not being too picky. Do you know how many children in Meteor City have grown up never eating from a fast food place, much less a local restaurant? I simply am greedy because I can now. I couldn’t before, and that is why I do so as an adult.

Favorite Food: Opulence. 

As an adult, my current ability to indulge in greed is a newfound privilege that I couldn't have experienced previously. Hence, I find it impossible to resist the temptation of adding an extra serving of truffle or caviar to my plate.

Least Favorite Food: Canned Cabbage.

One of the very few foods I refused to eat unless absolutely necessary was canned cabbage. It was slimy and always came in watery vinegar with mostly moldy parts… I was desperate, but not desperate enough to eat that. Machi, Nobunaga, and Phinks all agreed. Feitan didn’t, much to everyone’s annoyance.

Least Favorite Food: Waste.

Paku, Machi, and Feitan had a sort of pact that they forced on the rest of us to never throw away things that were still edible. According to Shalnark and Uvogin, moldy food is still edible. Phinks and I disagreed but… we got outvoted. 

Receiving a Gift: I.

Indulging in scrumptious meals truly possesses the power to alleviate all worries. So, how can I express my gratitude?

Receiving a Gift: II.

Oh? Thank you, dearest. …For your own good, you better not have put salt instead of sugar this time.

Receiving a Gift: III.

Ah... considering you seem to have a moment to spare, would you be interested in sitting down and enjoying a shared reading session? The choice of material is entirely up to you, of course.

Chrollo’s Birthday.

You are such a prize, you know? You’re in an outfit worth its weight in gold, actually, now that I think about it, diamonds. Autumn has set in, the weather gets colder, and the food gets warmer. Perfect time for spending quality time with someone, wouldn’t you say so? Please, allow me to do this with you, [First]. I have never really cared for this day if I am being honest, but… now that you are here, I feel like new opportunities are around every corner.

Birthday.

Happy birthday, [First]. Within reason, I would like to treat you to whatever your heart desires. Food, art, wine; anything, just tell me, alright? I will see to it. …Heh. I’m afraid a fall from this penthouse will not be enough to kill me. …No, I am not going to put it to the test, since I am certain about it. Please think of something else. The world is your oyster, dearest. But… remember that I can always close it before you can get to the pearl.

Feelings About You: Ethereal.

This feeling… I haven’t felt something like this since… Hmm? Am I? Quite the observation.

Feelings About You: Euphonious. 

…I miss your voice, you know. I always like it when you get caught up in a topic that interests you, no matter what it is. …But last time I took the gag off and took you out, you behaved quite terribly… Here, I’ll tell you what. I’ll take the gag off, and I’ll get you something related to your interests, and then we can talk about it. Does that sound good to you?

Feelings About You: Eternity.

We shall be together forever, bonded at the hip if we must be. I promise you. Do not worry about the details. It does not matter if you like it or not, because I will take care of whatever obstacles get in our way. Whether that obstacle is you or any… outsiders.

Feelings About You: Elision.

Do know that I do mean it when I say that I do want to make you happy. Yes, our relationship is less than ideal, but in the end, just know my feelings for you are indeed sincere. …I’m not exactly willing to take criticism, but I could try, perhaps. If you like to do so, I am willing to compromise, though.

→ Conclusion.

You never hear Chrollo in his movements, but you do in his actions when he wants you to.

He puts far more effort into the little things, the details than outright saying his feelings for you, or just telling you his threats. That mysterious gift that appeared on your bed while you were away at work, that just so happens to contain some of your favorite sweets? 

The bouquet on your kitchen table that was placed while you were asleep? The box of dozens if not at least a hundred pictures of you by your mailbox when you tried to file a police report? 

Chrollo is patient to a fault. You will never know what is happening, at its fullest, until it is far too late.

You can put as much blame on yourself as you want, and hate yourself as much as you want, for not realizing how dangerous this entire situation is. But this position under Chrollo’s thumb is so much more horrifying than you could ever imagine, so do not blame yourself for not noticing everything at once.

That is not to say Chrollo won’t try to degrade you into thinking this is all your fault.

Your walls will be as good as broken and crumbled down sooner than you think.

Blue Crow.

Yan Nobunaga x F Reader x Yan Uvogin. (College AU.)

Synopsis: Uvogin hates taking buses, but he enjoys seeing you one seat ahead of him.

Warnings: Yandere themes, non-con, the reader is described as AFAB and she/her pronouns are used, unhealthy relationships, brief mentions of drug/alcohol usage, victim blaming, oral (female receiving), oral (male receiving), sexual blackmail, and implied stalking.

Word Count: 5k.

somewhat inspired by the game classmates! check it out here if you'd like. <3

also inspired by @uvobreakmylegs's digging deeper! it's amazing! <3

*~*~*~*

The 5A station was the closest one to your dorm. It had no seats or shelter of any kind in case of bad weather, only a large blue sign that said Yorknew University, Nursing Program in white bold letters – because it didn’t say anything else about the buses that stopped by and because this stop is surrounded by old rotting trees, the drivers sometimes fail to notice you.

It’s raining now, and everything here is so dark – your clothes, your umbrella, the night sky, and your bag.

Your phone says the bus will be here any minute now, but will it even see you?

If not, you’ll have to find a different way to make it to Nobunaga’s place.

He seemed friendly enough. If you were a few minutes late, surely he’d understand. You were not close enough to invite him over, go inside his home, or let him drive you anywhere, though that is just how you are with all males you casually know. It’s nothing personal.

There are two bright lights a small distance away, and at the sight you raise your hand and wave.

By some miracle, the bus stops and opens its automatic doors.

You take a few steps as you close your umbrella and make your way up the stairs, being careful not to slip. You slip a few quarters into the little slot beside the driver and sit down on a seat near the window.

Taking off your hood, you ruffle your wet bangs out of your face, using your reflection to attempt to get them back to looking presentable. It doesn’t really work, but what does it matter? You’re just there to give Nobunaga some notes his friends wanted to give to him and leave. 

*~*~*~*

“You’re [First], correct?” Chrollo asks, putting his right hand out towards you.

You take out your earbuds, fixing your posture as you nod. A blonde man sits next to you on the bench before Chrollo could, smiling and giggling like he is some gossiping schoolgirl.

“Dang, you’re cute!” Shalnark exclaims. 

“Shal, what the hell are you doing?” Uvogin had started to stomp over. His mere size was enough to keep your eyes on him and not the others. Even the one girl who was with them didn’t draw your attention, despite her hair being unnaturally bright pink.

“Saying hi!” Shalnark put an arm around you. On instinct, you squirm a little bit, not noticing how Uvogin rolled his eyes in response to how Shalnark smirked at him. Once you were out of his loose grip, Chrollo politely cleared his throat.

“I was wondering if you could do something for us, Miss [First]. For the gang, I mean.” 

The gang? From what you knew, Chrollo’s group was always causing some sort of rule-breaking but Chrollo himself stayed at the top of the class with superb grades and plenty of attention from girls. It is like no one knew they were connected. They seemed like bad news, but all of your interactions with them had been positive thus far. Did Nobunaga put in the good word for you?

“Um… sure?” As long as it was something that didn’t land you in prison or the hospital, you decide to go along with what Nobunaga’s leader asks of you. It is probably a bad idea to reject, and maybe you’ll get something good out of it in exchange.

“I’d like you to give Nobunaga some notes he missed. He’s been out. Sick, most likely.” You didn’t notice the small piles of books he was carrying until he made them closer to you, wanting you to take them. “Surely you have noticed? He talks to you a lot, I hear.”

“Yeah.” You decide to put them on your lap for the time being. The notes weren’t as heavy as they would have been if you were carrying them. “Is… he doing better?”

“Not sure,” Uvogin says, attempting to pry Shalnark off the bench. “He hasn’t been answering his phone, you see.”

“I don’t wanna!” Shalnark whines.

“Shut up, Shal. You’re gonna make us look bad in front of Nobu’s girlfriend.”

Girlfriend?

“I’m… not his girlfriend…”

They don’t seem to hear you. You’re not exactly the loudest person, after all. You have been teased for having a soft voice and having to speak up. These people wouldn’t ignore you, you think. Shalnark and Uvogin are play fighting, and Chrollo is talking to that magenta-haired woman. They wouldn’t ignore you, you’re just being too shy. They wouldn’t ignore you, they are Nobunaga’s friends. Nobunaga wouldn’t ignore you, why would they?

“I’m… not his girlfriend.”

Uvogin is the only one to give you a response after hearing it. He shoots you a confused look before continuing to tickle Shalnark. No one else seems to notice your words.

After a few more tries, you decide to give up for now. Looking at the notebooks in front of you, you decide to open the top one up. There are just standard mathematical problems as well as some doodles and words of encouragement in the vacant spaces of the looseleaf. 

‘Go get them, tiger!’

‘Don’t die on me now!’

‘Remember one plus one?’

‘♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡’

At first, you think that it is Nobunaga’s girlfriend, but you shake your head to erase it. No. The gang thinks you are his girlfriend. 

Perhaps Shalnark then? From the times you sat near him in your chemistry classes, his handwriting was a mess. It took some effort to realize that he was simply drawing and not paying attention to the professor in the slightest. However, his favorite things to draw were bats and computers. Would he really draw hearts and not those things so Nobunaga could know it was him? 

Maybe it was an inside joke. You’re not going to ask because you don’t want your question to come off as disrespectful, though you were slightly curious.

You’ll just do what you were told and go right back home.

*~*~*~*

Shalnark texted you the address of Nobunaga’s place a few hours ago, but if you were being honest it took a while to decipher what he was saying. In between every five or so memes or videos he sent you there was a number or letter, maybe three at most if you were lucky.

You sat there with your phone in your hands for what felt like forever, not having the guts to ask Shalnark to just tell you straight up – because he wouldn’t, you know that.

From what you managed to gather from your online map, it seemed that Nobunaga’s place and Uvogin’s place were near each other, no more than a fifteen-minute walk at most. If they lived so close to each other, why didn’t one of them just visit the other? That was the third red flag you didn’t say anything about… and came to regret only half an hour later.

The electric sign attached to the entrance of the bus flickered from time to time with varying degrees of brightness. One person complained openly to the driver that the screen was so dark they did not know that they had missed their dormitory’s building. He didn’t care, only shrugging his shoulders and telling the student that ‘that’s life’. They got off murmuring curses you could hear from the middle part of the bus. Once again, he didn’t care. Like Shalnark, the driver wouldn’t take anything you say seriously; so you just used your online map to count the stops ahead.

“Hey.”

“Next stop: Aster Road, Thirds Street.” The automated message from the bus speakers loudly said, glitching a little after the word ‘Road’.

“Hey.” 

You failed to notice who was behind you as you were too busy counting the stops ahead on your phone.

“Hey.”

“Next stop: Ritas Street, Wilds Complex.”

“Hey.”

“Next stop: Neo Road, Neon Green.”

“Hey.”

“Next stop: Romeos Road, Kiki Terrace.”

“Hey.”

“Next stop-”

You failed to hear the name of the stop because the hand that tapped your shoulder startled you and made you turn your neck around to the seat behind you.

You see a familiar face despite the fading light – or should you say, a familiar body.

“O-Oh… hi… Uvogin.”

Satisfied you had finally noticed him, Uvogin puts his hands behind his head as he smirks. 

“Fancy seeing you so late,” he begins, looking down at your black bag. “Going to Nobu’s place, ain’tcha?”

“Yeah… you?”

“Basketball.”

Was Uvogin on the team too? If you remember correctly it was only Phinks, Feitan, and Nobunaga who were on it. Perhaps he just wanted to watch? Oh well. It’s not any of your business.

After remembering your last conversation with him yesterday, you decide to ask him why everyone thinks you are Nobunaga’s girlfriend – you only talked to him when necessary, in the classes you shared with him, but to be fair he also escorted you around the building most days.

“Listen… about that time…”

“What?” Uvogin turns his head, cupping his ear with his hand. “Speak up.”

“About Nobunaga and me…” You look down – at the books, at your cold wet hands, at the heels of your feet bouncing up and down. Your gut tells you that you’re making a mistake if you talk to him about you and Nobunaga’s relationship, or lack thereof. Your brain goes against it, saying that clearing things up will lead to less trouble down the line. 

Your heart is beating too fast to accept or reject the possibility. 

“Nobunaga and me…”

“You’re still talking too low,” Uvogin interrupts, his stare near-lethal to you. When you flinch at his words, his annoyance seems to disappear. “Hey, you can tell me. We’re friends, aren’t we?”

Yeah. Yeah, you’re friends or at least acquaintances. Saying the truth won’t hurt him and won’t hurt you. Maybe Shalnark’s teasing will go away. Maybe Chrollo won’t give you a task again. Maybe Nobunaga won’t be confused when he comes back to school.

“Nobunaga and me… aren’t dating-”

Uvogin’s expression changing wasn’t as fast as before, but his glare intensified as he stood up.

“Next stop: Nightstar Avenue, Owl’s Place.”

Your ears felt numb after you heard the ‘beep’ sound of someone pressing the stop button. Your eyes felt numb as you tried to see the details of Uvogin’s scowl in the dark.

It was Uvogin. He made the bus stop. But why?

It then hits you; this is the closest stop to Nobunaga’s place.

“Stop requested.” The speaker stated. The bus started to pull over next to a tall blue sign.

“Woah, the bus got here so quickly,” Uvogin says, going to the exit doors. When he didn’t hear you stand up too, he turned in your direction. “Don’t tell me you don’t know the directions to your boyfriend’s house?”

“Please exit through the rear door.” Another automated message. Uvogin presses on the door and it lets him out. After a few more seconds you follow him – your gut tells you that you must.

He helps you down with his much larger hands despite you not really needing it – there are handrails on the doors for that.

“What were you saying?” Uvogin asks. “Something about Nobunaga?”

There is a lit street lamp above the sign. It doesn’t flash like the ones near your dormitory and is much brighter. Despite the weather still being stormy, you can see houses a small distance away – not just the street. 

You can see that Uvogin is smiling again.

“Nothing… It’s nothing.”

“Oh?” He sneers, his smirk getting even bigger. “You didn’t want relationship advice?”

“No…” You reply, your hands going to your backpack’s zipper to make sure the notes don’t get too wet.

“Nobunaga likes mochi. Maybe you can get some for him next time. Daifuku especially. He’d be so happy, maybe he’ll stop skipping class with me.” 

A sigh comes out of both of you at the same time for much different reasons. 

“But I don’t want that to happen… hmm.”

*~*~*~*

The outside of Nobunaga’s house wasn’t the house that stood out the most in this neighborhood. It had rather small walls that had peeling white paint in places closer to the ground, and cigarettes and used needles were thrown all over his dead lawn. The only thing you somewhat liked was the rusty gold sign beside the front door that read 251 – and only for the styling of the numbers.

“Here’s the place,” Uvogin says, patting your back as a way to gently push you forward. “Go on, doorbell's right there.”

You were forced up the steps with a force you knew was gentle for Uvogin but not for you. A trembling finger approaches the button slowly – as if using it would make you lose it via a guillotine’s blade.

Doing so didn’t because this is reality, but the pain in your heart feels similar to such a fate anyway. After a few more seconds and the door still being closed, Uvogin knocks loudly.

“[First]’s here!” His yell almost made you cry.

Your name may as well have been the password because Nobunaga opens the door right away. He pants a little like he was running to greet you two.

“Oh fuck, you made it! I thought the storm woulda scared you away.”

Nobunaga didn’t look very sick; he wasn’t wearing a shirt, had his hair down, and only his boxers covered his lower half. He didn’t look very sick; he actually looked quite well. Those signs scared you more than Uvogin’s subtle threat – if his glaring was intended to be such, that is. You don’t step past the doorway, leaving Uvogin to stand in the rain as you take off your backpack. But when you try to undo the zipper, you feel both of their hands touching you up and down as their grins widen.

“Stop that,” You murmur, attempting to step back. Your spine was greeted by Uvogin’s front half. You feel something pressing into you. Once you figured out what it was, you started to go under one of Uvogin’s arms. His leg caged you in then.

“She’s cute, Nobu.”

Nobunaga doesn’t answer in words – he only chuckles and continues to have his hands resting on your hips.

“Listen. Your notes are here, Hazama.” You say, making an effort to still be nice, to still be understanding. You don’t want to scream because what if you’re misreading something? You don’t want anyone to… be framed for something they didn’t do, right?

“It’s Nobunaga.”

“Huh?”

“Call me Nobunaga,” You’re pushed and pulled more. Before you can blink, you’re thrown on the couch’s back. Uvogin is the one who lets go of you and the one who locks the front door, Nobunaga is too busy feeling the back of your thighs. “I’m your boyfriend – it’s normal to call each other by our first names, right?”

Boyfriend?

Was… Was he…

Was he the one who told his gang you’re dating?

“I missed you, baby.” He murmurs, leaning down and pecking your neck. 

He doesn’t seem to note how you’re trembling now.

“Stop.” 

Uvogin simply gets closer. He doesn’t touch you, but he crosses his arms smirking as he leans against the sofa’s frame.

“Stop,” You repeat, trying to push Nobunaga harder off of you.

It’s not an order either of them recognize, so Uvogin continues to stare and Nobunaga continues to kiss your body.

“Stop!” Your tone makes Uvogin slightly shift. He frowns and his arms uncross. 

He takes a few steps towards you. 

“Nobunaga.” Uvogin’s voice is cold now, like how it was when you were about to get off the bus. You freeze. Nobunaga doesn’t stop – he doesn’t even look at Uvogin. “Nobunaga.”

“Stop, Haz-”

“Watch it.” Uvogin glares at you. “It’s ‘Nobunaga’ for you.”

He’s not… He’s not going to help you?

“Yeah.” Nobunaga agrees, pulling you further into his embrace.

“Let go of me!” You snap and push harder than you did before – and manage to finally ply him off of you.

Nobunaga stares down at you. He is now still. He doesn’t blink. His smile has slightly faded, but it is still there. There are subtle movements in his hands. His fingers are curled up. They want to grab something again.

They want to grab you.

“Don’t joke around like that, princess,” Nobunaga finally says, taking a few steps too close to you. “Not many guys are willing to forgive their girl for pushing them away like that. You almost screamed my ears off.”

“I’m not joking!”

“You are.” Uvogin interrupts, stomping his feet. “You are and I am starting to get annoyed. What about you, Nobu?”

“I’m just here to give notes Lucilfer told me to give to Hazama! I’m not here for anything else.”

Nobunaga’s gaze lingers on your backpack for a few silent moments after you say that. “Really… nothing else?” 

“No, she’s here to cheer you up, Nobu,” Uvogin says, attempting to give a warm smile to his best friend. “She’s… just shy.”

The glare he gives you when Nobunaga’s eyes aren’t on him makes you feel like you are about to see God.

“...Right, [First]?”

You don’t respond right away, but Nobunaga does. He giddily smiles like a child on Christmas morning.

“Oh, you!”

He hugs you – his skin feels akin to slime and his hair clings onto your neck in little bunches. You feel unbrushed knots and his heart beating fast with adrenaline. When your own heart mimics the motion, Nobunaga thinks you are simply being shy – Uvogin had once again fed his delusions.

“She brought you the notes you missed. Even wrote a few cute lines in the blank spots.” Uvogin smirks as you look at him in horror. “She wanted me to come with her. Was anxious about missing your bus stop, sweet thing.”

He walks over to your backpack and grips onto the zipper. You attempt to stop him, walking a bit forward and trying to raise your hand, but Nobunaga’s grip is too strong. Within only a few seconds, the stack of notebooks Chrollo had given you is in Uvogin’s hands. He opens a page and starts reading aloud the cute notes someone else had written.

“Go get them, tiger.” 

He turns to another page. 

“Don’t die on me now.”

Then another.

“Remember one plus one?”

Then another.

“A whole bunch of hearts here…”

He then turns to a section you hadn’t looked at before – the back page.

“With lots of love, your one and only girlfriend [First].”

Oh shit. Oh shit.

Did his gang set you up?

…They did. They did.

This is bad. So very bad.

“I never-”

“Stop being so shy with your boyfriend, [First].”

“Why are you being so difficult?” Nobunaga asks, slightly frowning as you protest.

You have to get out of here – fast. If you distract them enough, maybe you’ll be able to make it outside. But they’re faster than you, just better overall when it comes to physicality-

Uvogin’s hand rests on your shoulder, silencing any thoughts or ideas he does not approve of.

“I know what she wants.”

“Huh?” You and Nobunaga ask simultaneously with two distinctly different tones.

It then dawns on both of you what he means – because his shirt is tossed on the couch before you can even take a step toward the front door.

“I know what she wants.” Uvogin repeats.

He wants nothing more than to put you on your knees as he unzips his pants and as Nobunaga keeps you down. He wants nothing more than for Nobunaga afterward to have a turn – or he could go first if he wishes. One of his fingers and one of Nobunaga’s own will be forced into you after your own clothes are discarded. Two tongues will slather all over your pussy like thirsty dogs – and after a few pictures are taken you’ll stay the night with Nobunaga while he makes his way to tell Chrollo that his idea was a success.

“I really couldn’t have done it without you, boss.”

-You try to scream and Nobunaga’s hand muffles your mouth’s cries.

“Don’t go being such a brat,” Uvogin continues, “When all you really want are two bodies to love on you.”

Your arms are grabbed and you are dragged up the stairs.

In a last attempt to get out of here, your legs spread out on the stairs and kick around at Nobunaga – but the fight is short-lived because they thump so roughly with each wooden step and it hurts; Nobunaga makes a note to finally get rid of any rotten oak once you leave.

The bedroom isn’t as spacious as Uvogin had hoped. Clothes were scattered all over the place already; most Nobunaga’s but others were clearly from past flings or some of yours that he had managed to steal. Your dorm was nicer despite it being the same size as the bedroom and your bed being even smaller. But at least yours had a frame and covers.

Maybe later Uvogin will stop by to see you crying yourself to sleep and to take some trophies.

Your white panties were a favorite of his, but Uvogin wouldn’t mind a little bit of change in his collection. A few bras perhaps or a few black thongs. He hopes for whole lingerie sets, but he knows it will only happen if he is lucky that particular evening.

Uvogin sits on the bed first. He thinks about pulling on your hair to make you sit on the dirty floor, but he dismisses the idea. That would be hurting you more than he has to and Nobunaga would be upset at him inevitably having long strands on his palm.

“Hey Nobu,” He says, unzipping his pants and boxers as he quickly tugs them both down to his ankles. “Make sure she’s comfy as we do this, okay?”

It took a while for you to stop crying after that. It took a while for you to do a lot of things Uvogin and Nobunaga wanted you to do. It took a while for you to take just the tip of Uvogin’s penis. Nobunaga had told Uvogin to take it slow when you had finally clamped your lips around him.

“It’s her first time, Uvo – be gentle, okay?”

Uvogin almost laughed at the irony he managed to leave unsaid.

He didn’t want Nobunaga to get upset with all the information he had attained while stalking you for months. You were supposed to just be his little secret he pinned down once in a while, but then Nobunaga just so happened to share a few classes with you.

He fell for you too. Uvogin had never felt any negative emotion for Nobunaga ever over their years-long friendship, but the slight tinge of envy he possessed the moment he found out could almost count.

Oh well, he thinks. I still have pictures of you that he does not. Pictures I would rather not have him see and you probably don’t either.

Just for future reference in case you acted up too much, though Uvogin could always take the more physical route.

Though once again he remembers that Nobunaga is in the picture now. Though their bond is as strong as forged steel, he knows that his friend has always been a bit too controlling when it comes to what he has and loves.

Whether that be simple instant ramen or expensive bottles of brandy, Nobunaga has always had a habit of stowing his possessions away where no one can even look at them.

Uvogin understands although Nobunaga had said nothing about you being something to own. Uvogin understands because he sees how he looks at you.

It’s not disgust he feels. It’s something much less potent, but he cannot put his finger on the exact word. Machi had described it perfectly once when they were all in their mid-teenage years.

He doesn’t bother to remember right now.

You are more important.

You look prettier than he had ever seen you – precum is leaking a little from your lips as little noises come out of them too.

Please. Please.

Please.

You’re not in tears right now.

Uvogin is glad. You in makeup is nice to look at, but he knows that since it is absolutely pouring outside you didn’t want to put some on. Either for that reason or because you knew that Nobunaga was just a friend, despite what Nobunaga in return has told the Troupe. It’s cute, really.

Maybe later he can pull this when he inevitably breaks into your dorm or even in a study room in the university’s library. You’ll have makeup on when you feel like it or when he forces you to. He can ask Pakunoda about how to apply mascara and stuff. She’ll teach him. As a bonus, she won’t tease him like Shalnark does daily.

Thinking more about the idea, Uvogin makes the mistake of letting go of your face.

You cough louder than he had expected. Your spit is now all over the wooden floor Nobunaga has to clean up later. The floors are water resistant. But not waterproof. Uvogin has to remember that there is in fact a difference. Hopefully, it won’t stain and rot like the stairs did, but if it does Uvogin wouldn’t mind paying for the damages.

He wouldn’t mind paying you to keep silent about this too – or he’ll make the cops silent if it came down to it.

“Oh,” Nobunaga rubs your arched back as you squirm and saliva runs down from your clearly sore jaw. He sounds disappointed, but trying not to let it show. It’s not successful. Every person Nobunaga has ever crossed can read him like a book, not that Nobunaga knows about it. Or maybe he does and just doesn’t want to admit it. “You spat it all up. Didn’t wanna swallow it?”

You don’t respond. Uvogin is getting used to that by now. Not Nobunaga though.

“Shh… it’s okay.” Nobunaga senses your distress but thinks it is just shyness. Uvogin is getting used to that too. “It’s okay… you did such a great job.”

“Home,” You choke out. “Please… let me go home now…”

“What are you talking about, sweetheart?” Nobunaga asks, turning his head a little. “We’re not done here.”

“Please… Please, I-”

“Shh.” Uvogin interrupts. Now it is his turn to play the good guy here. “Nobu still hasn’t had his turn, remember? Thankfully he won’t use your mouth.”

A blend of hope and fright is in your gaze. Uvogin didn’t have to get used to that one. He has seen it too many times with all sorts of people. Chrollo loves that look. Feitan loves it too. Maybe their partners’ eyes are like that as well. A ginger-haired girl avoids Chrollo like the plague and Uvogin hasn’t seen that look particularly on her. Apparently, she does in fact beg him for things. With how prideful she acts, Uvogin would pay money to see that.

“He’ll use his,” Uvogin says. He stands up, zipping his pants back to how they used to be. There are a few white stains here and there, but nothing the laundromat wouldn’t fix. “Then you can go home. Okay, princess?”

You’ll get used to this, Uvogin thought to himself. Everyone gets used to things. Even death.

Listennnnnnn…. Credit to the person who made it but

Idk if I’m into Feitan or Levi more 😩😩

This man would work my last nerve but damn that hotel room window scene was spicy 🌶️

Yandere! Chrollo Lucilfer NSFW Profile

Yandere! Chrollo Lucilfer x fem! reader

Tw: kidnapping, non/dub-con, manipulation, I know I might break some hearts but I actually think Chrollo is very vanilla, loud sex, begging, h*nd holding, voyeurism, exhibitionism, unethical usage of a copying nen ability, masturbation, stalking, fem reader, MDNI

I do not condone any of the actions described in this post - this is fiction and should be treated as such. If you or a loved one is in a similar situation to anything contained in this post or my blog in general, please seek help. You're in charge of your internet consumption; please make responsible choices. With that, enjoy! 

HABITS:

Generally speaking, sex hasn’t been a huge part of Chrollo’s life. Of course, being a man with charisma and questionable goals, he’s had his fair share of partners to woo and use for information, sneakily extracting names and facts from them as he kisses and touches them, a husky, whispered question of and where might those gemstones be exactly against his temporary lover’s lips seeming strangely erotic, though the intent is anything but.

He’s never really viewed sex as something meaningful; rather, it’s simply a tool, a means to an end for whatever it is that he wants to steal next, and thus it’s never been much of a concern. Why should it be, when Chrollo finds connections and genuine human interaction something of a chore, unless it’s towards his own Troupe members?

Sex is a means to an end, and while there’s something strangely alluring about the idea of having sex for pleasure, he’s not one to simply go out and find a hookup to relieve himself. He likes to think he’s more refined than that – besides, while he isn’t especially wearing of intimacy or touching others, he doesn’t want to touch anyone he isn’t at least needing to, for some job or another. Casual sex just isn’t his thing.

Of course, then you come along, and just with everything else in his life, you’re to blame for his sudden change in opinion, his sudden changing belief that maybe, just maybe, sexual desire and intimacy has more of a purpose than he originally believed.

It’s not instantaneous, his desires to be touching you and making you moan so prettily and feel your skin against his. He doesn’t see you and immediately imagine bending you over and fucking you until you’re sweating and panting and spent. He doesn’t immediately imagine spreading your legs and getting you gripping at his hair, your pretty slick smeared all over his lips.

It’s not immediate, but rather a culmination of his obsession with you deepening over time. It takes him a long time to develop his feelings for you, and even longer to make sense of them – he’s not particularly hostile towards them, but it takes a while for his obsession to fully set in, for him to realize that he wants you in a romantic, genuine way. It will be a solid few weeks after his obsession form for him to get to the point where he’s fantasizing not only about the way you’d smile at him and softly sigh as he reads passages of his favorite gothic poems to you, but also about the way you’d quote certain stanzas as you kiss his neck, run your fingernails against his back, tug at his hair and keen his name.

It’s slow going, and to be honest Chrollo doesn’t even really notice that it’s happening until he’s suddenly so pent up that he just can’t take it, his hand itching to reach down and quell the dull throbbing coming from between his legs.

He’s never been one to masturbate much, the act seeming tiresome and without little reward, and as a result he’s more curious than anything that you’ve managed to inspire within him such primal urges, animalistic desires to see you stuffed full of his cock, cum leaking from your spent, sore pussy, your eyes dazed and hazy as he kisses you breathlessly.

He’s impressed, more than anything, but Chrollo isn’t too surprised once he thinks about it – you’re something of a breath of fresh air to him, someone real and interesting and oh so intriguing, so why wouldn’t he want to fuck you until you’re crying?

Why wouldn’t he want to map every inch of your skin out with his lips, feel your muscles clench and stiffen up under his fingertips?

He’s mildly surprised by your ability to essentially get him horny, and while it doesn’t happen too often (maybe two or three times per week), it’s still sizeable – and so is the amount of time that he begins spending in the company of a candle, a novel, and symphonic music in the background, blending in with the airy gasps and groans of the evening. 

When it comes to actually touching himself, Chrollo has a bit of a dirty secret; his nen ability (and its extensions, of course) comes in handy to the extreme in a lot of ways regarding you, but as soon as his more sexual desires towards you begin emerging, he’s suddenly so grateful for the sheer amount of nen abilities that he’s accumulated over the years.

That is, he’s particularly grateful for a certain one he picked up towards the beginning of the Phantom Troupe’s existence: an ability allowing partial recreation of an individual’s body parts, up to the whim of the wielder.

Guilt has never been something he’s given too much thought to, and so as he lights the few candles surrounding his place at the edge of the queen sized bed he's used the last few evenings, he merely closes his eyes and smiles, the aroma of a blissful, peaceful evening settling around him, the feeling of moonlight hitting his pale features and the crackling of the flames relaxing his body and preparing him for the next few events.

Chrollo is nothing if not a man of culture, and so as he carefully removes his jacket (folding it on top of the Victorian style chair in the corner of the room) along with his pants, he lets out a small sigh and grabs the book laying atop his nightstand, the golden cover with its black lettering making a small shiver run down his spine.

The book is, admittedly, a bit more graphic than his normal tastes, but there’s something about the way the narrator describes the female lead that makes his mind immediately shoot to you – something about the description of her hair, her body, her mannerisms, her everything, though Chrollo could say without a hint of hesitation that you were still better in every possible way. He’s read the novel dozens of times; it’s a classic, cliché love story of a dashing, mysterious man who swoons a sweet, traditional daughter of some nobleman, their romance dark and swift and taboo.

It reminds him a lot of his situation with you, really – he’s the handsome, dark man who comes and sweeps you off your feet, tempting you into leaving your good-girl, righteous persona and instead letting him taint you. Just the thought gets him throbbing, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallows and wills himself to calm down, to not ruin the ambiance he’s diligently set up for the night.

He flips to the marked section towards the middle of the book, the chapter detailing the night of passion and romance that ensues between the two characters. He’s quick to begin pouring over the words, and though he’s read this multiple page passage easily hundreds of times, the image still comes together in his head as if it’s fresh – the woman pinned below the man, the collar of her silky, white nightdress pushed down to just above her breasts, collarbone exposed along with her neck, half lidded eyes staring up at the lead while she gulps and breaths a bit raggedly.

Her wrists are beside her head, her whole body open and exposed for his future pleasure, and immediately he’s imagining you in a frilly, white nightgown, the material short and sheer and making you look angelic, like something for him to ruin.

Chrollo licks his lips, eyes still rapidly scanning the page as a hand snakes down to the slowly stiffening length resting against his thigh, the tip turning a deep shade of red, the trimmed forest of black hair standing out against the pale skin surrounding. A brush of his fingertips against the sensitive base has him exhaling slowly, the fantasy of the heroine’s knee slightly rising to brush against the lead’s clothed cock making a blush rise to the back of his neck, images of the way you’d bite your lip and whisper his name making him feel hot, every nerve on fire as the excitement and anticipation of pleasure – of you – rolls through him.

He knows the passage by heart, knowing every event taking place between what he pretends to be you and himself, his own imagination even filling in the details, imagining little additions to the plot that the book doesn’t even mention – you whispering his name and tracing the tattoo across his forehead, the feeling of your soft fingers against his skin making him groan ever so lightly. And with that thought in mind, he’s gently bookmarking and placing the book back on the stand, instead taking a deep breath, black eyes appraising his throbbing cock desperate for attention and stimulation, your attention and stimulation.

He spends a moment stroking himself, the pulls of his wrist languid and slow, just barely enough stimulation to feel good – hesitant, almost, like he imagines you being. Would you be nervous, the first time you see him naked? He likes to imagine you’ve never been with a man before (though he knows it’s likely untrue), or at least that you’ve never cared so much about pleasing one, about making him feel good and pleasured and satisfied.

(He decides you would be a bit anxious – your touches small, unsure, your pretty eyes always flicking back up to his, your soft lip caught between your teeth, your thumb just barely brushing over his tip and making him murmur your name with a slightly strained voice.)

He’s quick to pull up his book of nen abilities, flipping through the pages until he finds the correct one, the familiar black lettering describing the ability making him shiver in anticipation. It’s easy to conjure up the familiar image of your face in his mind, the corresponding physical image appearing before him immediately, and as he opens his previously closed eyes, he sucks in a sharp breath at the image of you, your lashes and cheeks and pretty eyes staring up at him.

It’s perfect – a complete replica of you, down to every last mole, hair, and scar decorating your face. It’s a bit disorienting to see a version of just your head and hair floating, your eyes gorgeous yet lifeless, muscles unable to move freely on their own, but Chrollo moves past it quickly – how can he not, when you’re right there, so pliable and beautiful and for his use?

He swallows harshly as his free hand comes down to lightly run over your strands of hair, the texture familiar and pleasing to the touch, and he watches with unblinking eyes as he slowly pushes your head down, further until your unfocused eyes are level with the now pulsing erection sitting between his legs.

He bites his lip as he recalls the words of the passage, the eloquent language not diminishing the meaning behind the words. She kneeled before him, a servant to her master, lips parted and eyes appraising him as if he were a work of art, the single most valuable thing to have graced her gaze.

He imagines the way you’d stare at him, your eyes raking over his sculpted chest, the ‘v’ of his navel, your tongue flicking out over your lips as you appraise the pale length of his cock, the soft, smooth set of balls attached.

He hopes you’d be impressed, but impatience gets the better of him as he once again moves your head further forward, so that his tip brushes against your lifeless lips.

They’re cold, a stark difference to what he’s sure is an inviting, riveting, and wet mouth you possess, but he’s in no position to complain – certainly not when he remembers how the woman swallows him as if he were the most divine, succulent meal, savoring his taste as if it were her last.

It’s difficult to recreate the scene with your unresponsive mouth, but he’s carefully pulling your lower jaw down, your lips parted and tongue lolling out as he slowly, ever so fucking slowly, pushes inside, the small groan fighting its way up his throat telling of how even your cold mouth can affect him.

He shivers, the sensation climbing up his spine, and his fingers gently scrape your scalp as he gets a good grip, his head lolling back slightly and his eyes closing as he begins moving your head up and down, up and down, your cold saliva coating his length as he sighs and whispers your name under his breath.

The music in the background is soft, romantic, orchestral and something Chrollo very much imagines fucking you to. He likes to imagine the way your moans and breaths would blend in with the melodies and crescendos – though, the sounds you’d make when he’s got you creaming all over his fingers and cock would drown out any sort of background music, he’s sure.

Once again musters up more aura, conjuring up a replica of your hand that he quickly intertwines with his own, his fingers joining yours in shakily holding up his nen book. The pace is slow, soft, the moment feeling sweet yet erotic, and as he opens his eyes and stares half liddedly down at your unseeing eyes and unresponsive mouth, Chrollo curses, a small l-love, you’re so beautiful…

His fingers tighten around your hair as he comes closer, the book’s scenes flashing through his eyes as he picks up the pace of his wrist, your head coming down over his throbbing, sensitive skin quicker, the sensation climbing and climbing as his breath steadily gets harsher, soft groans tumbling past his now puffy and overbitten lips, the light flush across his cheeks and the bridge of his nose almost endearing.

He’s fairly quiet, only the occasional deep groan or murmur of your name, and as he gets closer, his grip around your fingers tightens, his breathing getting more ragged and uneven. His complexion reddens, his skin shining with a light sheen of sweat, abs clenching and twitching as the pleasure grows stronger, more acute, the feeling of you and your spit and your soft skin only spurring on the twitching of his cock.

The music climbs to a crescendo, his eyes peeling open to see the way your lips suck him in again and again and again, his cock glistening with spit and his hips bucking to get even deeper inside you, the visual of him fucking your face just too much too much –

He’s coming with a strangled gasp of your name, dark eyes blowing wide as his hips start thrusting on their own, plunging forward and down your throat, untimed and uneven.

He imagines the way you’d gag, your throat tightening up and your pretty eyes dotting with tears as he shoots load after load of watery, semi-bitter cum down your throat, the thought only making his hips jerk harder, his body spurred forward by the motivation to get as much of his cum as deeply down your throat as possible, to claim you as his in the most carnal, natural way.

He’s panting by the time the feeling dies down, a few strands of his carefully gelled back hair loose and framing the pale skin of his forehead and the tattoo decorating it. Beads of sweat frame his temples, his chest heaving still, his nipples hard and pebbled in the cool air of the bedroom.

It takes a moment for him to slowly regain his composure, giving your floating facial replica a gentle, long kiss on the forehead, his eyes fluttering closed and eyebrows scrunching up as he kisses you harder, more fervently, more desperately, trying to express every ounce of love and appreciation and want he has for you, even if it’s merely a cold, carbon copy of you that he’s kissing.

Then, he’s shutting the book and watching you disappear, a cold, familiar sense of loneliness settling into his chest.

The music is still on in the background, lulling him into a relaxed state as he lays on his back, body nude while he thinks back to the way the novel describes the post-sex cuddling, soft touches and sweet, affectionate words, lulled promises of loving each other forever, claims of ownership and commitments to stay together.

He sighs softly, the faintest smile gracing his lips as he imagines the way he’d hold you, your sweaty bodies pressed against one another, cum seeping from your cunt as you clutch onto him, your hair tickling his chin and neck, your soft breaths as you drift into sleep, feeling safe and protected by him…

Occasionally, on nights where he feels particularly restless for you, where the stress of running a wanted criminal group begins to get to him, he’ll conjure up your full body, and while it’s cold, unresponsive and unable to speak or look at him, it’s enough. Cuddling you, kissing your freezing skin and running his fingers over your jawline, collarbone, your supple curves is enough to have him slowly drifting to sleep, secure in your arms and dreaming of the day when you’re finally there to enact the scenes of his romantic, smutty novels with him in person, just as you should be. 

(He’ll never actually fuck your nen-conjured self, however. He feels it would be crossing the line – as if fucking your mouth isn’t – and although it wouldn’t feel nearly as good as the real you, he wants your first time together to be special, to be a true exploration of each other’s bodies and genuine reactions. So, rest assured, he doesn’t use the fuck doll he makes of you as a stand in for actual sex – he’ll just use your hand, or your mouth, or your breasts, or your thighs. Never that perfect cunt between your legs, the one that makes his mouth water and his fingers twitch.)

FAVORITE BODY PARTS:

Your Collarbone

In a lot of ways, Chrollo is a traditional man. Surely not with his profession, nor the company he keeps, and certainly not the way he feels for you – but still, some aspects of how he views intimacy are very classical.

That is, while he adores the sight of you in revealing, slutty clothing, with your tits nearly bursting out of the pathetic, stringy bralette and your pretty, puffy lips clearly visible through the sheer thong, there’s an appeal to the more sensual parts of your body that aren’t as oversexualized.

Specifically, Chrollo finds himself drawn to your chest – of course, your breasts are alluring and wonderful and fit in his hands so very perfectly, but his favorite spot of all is right above them.

The expanse of your collarbone is a sight that always manages to catch his eye, his dark gaze lingering on the symmetrical, pretty bones. He likes to trace them with his finger, his touch light and soft but insistent, running over the lines and pressing his thumb into the dip in the center.

It doesn’t matter if your collarbone is prominent or not – there’s just something about the intimacy of it all that makes him giddy, the fact that no one except him gets to feel this part of you making his possessiveness flare up and shivers race up his spine.

When he’s kissing you, his lips always find purchase there, traveling down your neck and the juncture of your shoulder, before settling heavily against your collarbone, soft lips pressing kisses and hickeys and biting against the skin.

When he’s pressed you up against the wall, his figure looming over you and his presence making you feel small and weak, he’ll leave a hand at the base of your throat, the heel of his palm pressing against your collarbone so that he can feel your pulse, feel the way you breath, feel you you you.

You’ll often wake up after nights of long, passionate fucking (love-making, he likes to say, though the way he loses control after his first orgasm and fucks you so hard it nearly hurts really only resembles an animal, not a man) with dark marks all over your collarbone, the entire area bruised and swollen and aching, a constant reminder of Chrollo’s presence.

When he kidnapped you, it was a very spur of the moment, rushed affair, and as a result you weren’t able to bring any of your own clothing – which means, outside of just roaming around naked (something that Chrollo certainly wouldn’t argue against), you’ll be left to dress with whatever he deems appropriate.

More often than not, that means shirts with very low necklines, off the shoulders, or with wide necks that show off your collarbone.

(It also means skirts and dresses, sheer tights or thin materials, things that show off your thighs and the curves of your legs – Chrollo’s second favorite spot on your body.)

You’ll catch him staring idly, his eyes hyperfocused on the area even when you’re speaking to him, and sometimes you can even actually see the way he zones out ever so slightly, an internal war taking place inside him because he wants to hear what you’re saying and watch your lips as you speak to him, but he just can’t stop staring at where he’d left a large, prominent hickey on the right side of your collarbone, feeling your pulse under his lips while he made you cream and squeeze and come all over his fingers, just for him.

He thinks you’re beautiful, and even if you aren’t, Chrollo finds your body to be elegant, truly a work of art, and your collarbone is the crowning jewel of said art.

So don’t be surprised when he’s forcing you to wear chokers and tight necklaces, the combination of the jewelry and the sleeveless top leaving the expanse between them open and vulnerable, perfect to suck on and kiss.

He’s just in love, and is it so wrong to find your body perfect, wonderful, so damn alluring that it drives him insane?

His fingers

From the moment his sexual urges towards you begin, his fantasies tend to revolve mostly around using his hands to please you.

Of course, he likes the idea of using his mouth on you or stuffing you full of his cock, and those fantasies are most definitely present, too.

(As are the ones where you’re pleasing him – he has to be careful with these fantasies, though, because if he’s in public, any thought of you dropping to your knees for him or pressing your pretty tits together and moving them up and down his cock gets him hard immediately, his orgasm already halfway there from just the thought of you wanting him to feel good.)

The majority of what he imagines in detail is really just him working at your body with his hands. They aren’t too terribly veiny, but they’re the perfect amount, just enough to get your gaze lingering on them, and seeing the way the tendons and muscles flex when he moves will make your throat feel dry.

Even the way his hands are connected to his forearms, veins dancing up the expanse of his pale arms can get you staring, embarrassment making your neck feel hot when he catches your gaping with a knowing look, that prideful, cocky smirk on his face making you feel hot in anger and a bit of excitement.

(He’s noticed your staring, and makes it a point to roll up the sleeves of his shirts to expose his wrists and forearms, even purposefully flexing the muscles when he sees your eyes on them, his own gaze eagerly examining your face for even a hint of awe, or attraction, or enjoyment.)

But the real draw of his hands are his fingers; they’re pale, nimble and surprisingly smooth, given his past and occupation, and they’re long. They’re always cold, the feeling making you shiver, and Chrollo has them pressed against you as often as possible.

He’s touchy, really, and while this often manifests as his hand sitting on the small of your back or your shoulder or brushing against your cheek, this habit certainly doesn’t change in the context of intimacy and sex.

When he’s got you underneath him, staring up at him with wide eyes and your lips all swollen and bruised from his harsh kisses, he’s immediately touching you, his hands coming up to rip off the shirt he’d picked out for you this morning, tearing the flouncy skirt he’d helped zip you into cleanly in half in his desperation.

He can’t control himself, really – he’s gripping at your thighs and the fat of your stomach, squeezing and kneading and wanting, and while that entertains him for a while, eventually he’ll be nudging your legs apart, fingers immediately tracing up the insides of your thigh, tickling you and making you suck in a breath as he gets closer and closer to where you need him. (Or, at least, where he thinks you need him.

He’s convinced he knows your body better than you do, though, so any amount of denying this claim will result in that same, familiar patronizing smile and a soft murmur of it’s okay, darling, your body says what your mind won’t.)

He likes to tease you, even though it ends up teasing him too, by pressing feather-light touches against your folds and sensitive clit, dark eyes flicking between your cunt and your face, eagerly taking in every expression and sound you give him.

He’ll ask you if you want more, for you articulate what you want, all because he needs to hear you say please Chrollo, I need your fingers inside, I want to feel you fuck me with your fingers! Eventually, though, his patience will snap, and he’ll push them inside, listening to your little gasps and moans as he immediately curls them, rubbing and pressing against the spots he knows make you moan and writhe.

He’s unfairly good with his fingers – he’s got the pacing and motions down perfectly, his stamina high enough to keep going throughout the entire night.

He’s always got a finger steadily working at your clit, rubbing slow, firm circles against the sensitive area until you’re coming for him, and while a lot of his desire to make you feel good genuinely comes from the place of wanting to please you, a lot of it is selfish, too.

By constantly stimulating your clit or loosening you up with his fingers, he’s making sure you’ll enjoy him, that when he’s fucking you and stuffing you with his cum, you’re wet enough and receptive enough, and god, the feeling of you coming on his cock, the constant pressure against your clit tipping you over the edge?

Well, don’t blame him when he’s gasping into your ear, a strangled sort of noise that almost sounds like your name, his cock twitching and throbbing inside you, before you feel warmth spilling into you, his black hair tickling your cheeks as he rests his face in the crook of your neck.

DRIVE:

In general, Chrollo’s libido isn’t the highest. Obviously, he desires you sexually and loves to kiss you, touch you, fuck you, make you scream his name and clutch onto him like you’ll otherwise die, but he doesn’t need to be in bed with you at all times. He doesn’t have to be making you cream and stuffing you full of his cock, fingers and cum every day.

(Every other day is ideal, or – if he’s particularly stressed or busy – maybe every two days, but that’s pushing it.)

No, Chrollo isn’t that sexually driven – though, he is that clingy, even if he’s good at not showing it. In general, there’s something about you that makes Chrollo feel, and he’s found that any sort of physical contact brings this strange, fluttering emotion in his chest, one he’s fairly sure is love – which ultimately results in the conclusion that in order to feel good, wanted, loved, touching you is something that he must do often.

The reality is that he’s never really had a partner, someone to give and receive genuine love and affection with, and the moment that he realizes how wonderful a hug can feel or how good of an experience simply locking pinkies can be, he’s hooked. Suddenly, those cliché, overt couple actions that used to intrigue him in a clinical way are much, much more interesting, the idea of wrapping his arms around your waist enticing in a way he can’t quite describe.

From pretty much the beginning of your time as his captive, Chrollo will be forcing affection onto you. It’s little things, mostly – things that make your skin crawl because they’re so innocent and sweet and pure that it makes you sick.

He’ll gently intertwine your hands with his, staring down and marveling at the sight of your fingers wrapped around his own, your smaller hand looking perfect against his.

He’ll press a kiss to your cheek or forehead after he compliments you (though, the compliments are always a bit strange – slightly threatening, or too specific, or just weird).  

Of course, while this affection and surplus of physical contact is generally innocent, slowly Chrollo’s tastes and urges begin to change slightly, going from wholesome, sweet acts to more questionable touches, actions that have you slightly cocking a brow, slightly not comfortable with the implications of his behavior.

Because really, while you’ll likely be just fine with him lacing his fingers with yours (though, it’s likely that you’ll be less happy with it and more just complacent, figuring that with his criminal status and abilities, there’s far worse he could do to you), things will get a bit complicated when his hands start resting at your waist, dipping ever so slightly lower to your hip, his fingers pressing just a bit tighter against your skin than you’re comfortable with.

What starts out with a mostly tolerable chaste kiss to the cheek will turn into his lips against yours, his tongue running along your lower lip, a small groan tumbling into your mouth as he forces his tongue inside, running it along your teeth and coaxing your own tongue to participate.

What begins as a simple pair of hands resting against your shoulders will become him running them down the length of your sides, thumbs pressing circles against the area right underneath your breasts, those dark eyes seeming to shine with something that makes your breath hitch.

Because really, while Chrollo does absolutely bask in the innocent affection he can garner from you, there’s just something about you that makes his more natural urges kick into gear, the area between his legs feeling warmer, more insistent, more desperate the more he kisses you, the more he holds you and whispers to you that he loves you so much my dear, won’t you let me show you the extent of my feelings? 

However, Chrollo is a smart man – when it comes to actually having sex or any sort of intimacy on the same level with you, he’s willing to be patient.

He doesn’t want to force you into anything, to make you uncomfortable or dislike him, to reverse any progress he’s made in getting you to fall utterly, completely in love with him, so he steels himself, mentally reminding himself every time he sees your plush thighs that he must wait.

He’ll chastise himself for almost losing control when you stretch, the sliver of exposed skin of your stomach and your cute little grunt nearly making him throw caution to the wind.

He has remarkable self control, and while you likely won’t know it, you’ll be seeing it in action nearly every moment he’s around you, especially when you’re already doing something affectionate, like hugging or sitting in his lap.

(He’s the one that’s forced you into these things, of course, but it doesn’t matter – if you make any sort of movement that isn’t prying him off or swatting his hands away, Chrollo considers you as being willing, happy, enjoying touching him, and the thought makes this pleasant, warm feeling bloom in his chest.)

He’s working incredibly hard to not push too far, but after some time of you not seeming to come around, not voicing any desire to go further, Chrollo decides he must resort to certain measures in order to speed up your progress.

Thus, he begins subtly trying to plant the idea in your mind, trying to tempt you into admitting that yes, you want him to reach underneath the frilly, white shirt he provided to you and cup your breasts, to roll your nipple between his thumb and forefinger, to feel you shiver and hear you sigh against his lips.

He wants to lay seeds in your mind so that you’ll come to the conclusion sooner that you want him to rest between your legs and use that talented, smooth talking mouth to make you talk, to hear you babble and cry out his name.

He’s talented at being discreet, and so as he moves his hands to rest closer to your ass, squeezing the plush of your thighs, leaving fluttering kisses against your neck, he’s hoping you’ll slowly come to the conclusion on your own, your own body and desires betraying you.

And quite honestly, while you’ll likely be uncomfortable at first, confused and a bit scared, eventually it’ll work – after all, charisma is something Chrollo possesses in mass quantities, and while you’re obviously not happy that you’ve been kidnapped, that the leader of a mass group of international criminals is holding you in his lap and nuzzling against your mouth, whispering to you that you’re so lovely, won’t you say my name darling, it’s difficult to not let the ideas form, the lack of human contact forcing you to imagine paths you rationally have no desire to.

It’ll make you feel dirty, like you’re betraying yourself and letting Chrollo win, but he’ll ultimately get exactly what he wants – he’s observant to a tee, and so once he notices the way you start clenching your thighs together ever so slightly as he tells you that he’d love to take care of you tonight, he’s inwardly smiling, pride swimming in his chest because finally,  finally you’re beginning to be affected by the subtle touches and words, things that could leave you second guessing, the possibility that maybe he wants to go further unrelenting in that sweet little head of yours.

And so, as he begins probing you, asking you how you’re feeling, if you’re satisfied, if you’re feeling like I give you everything you desire, he’s waiting with baited breath for you to embarrassedly admit that you want more, that you want something only Chrollo can give to you.

He’ll goat you into admitting it, telling you to be more specific, to tell him exactly what you want, because otherwise he won’t know, and then he can’t improve, now can he?

He’s calculating, smart, analytical and damn good at getting what he wants, and so ultimately you’ll cave, admitting that you want him to fuck me please, I just – just please…

He won’t outwardly be affected, but just know that the speed with which his erection makes itself known is directly tied to you, the eagerness of his body and his movements to undress you betraying him.  

And as he starts breathing a little heavier, stripping you of your clothing and his as well, it becomes hard to miss the way he’s eager, anxious, frantic to touch you.

You’ll see the signs of months of repressed sexual tension, months of desiring you but needing you to consent first, even as pressured as your admittance may be.

But in the end, does it matter?

Because when Chrollo’s hovering over you, those dark eyes fixed on your face with an intensity that’ll make you shiver, you’ll feel oh so taken care of, the small signs and subtle pushes making you insatiable for something you didn’t even know you desired. 

And Chrollo will be happy to keep providing for you – what kind of lover would he be if he didn’t? Besides, no one else canmake you feel like he does – not even you – he’ll make sure of it.

You only need him.

MAIN THREE KINKS:

Loud Sex

Generally speaking, Chrollo is a quiet man. He’s polite and personable, yes, but he doesn’t bother with unnecessary chatter – when he speaks it’s purposeful, calculated, commanding, and this is true even when it comes to you.

 You make him feel the closest he’s ever felt to being nervous, but he’s still not especially loud around you. He never shuts up, that’s true, always asking you questions and telling you about his day, about a flower that reminds him of you (a petal or two was missing, making him think of how you aren’t truly complete unless he’s with you), or even, on rare occasions, telling you a reason why he’s in love with you.

(It’s not as romantic as it sounds – the way he speaks about romance is too clinical, and the reasons he’ll give you are far too specific and detailed to really make you feel good.)

So yes, he speaks often, but he’s not loud.

And during sex, this stays true – the most you’ll get out of him is a low groan and a few heavy, drawn out sighs, or a few chants of your name when he’s getting close and he’s particularly pent up. He’s still not quiet though – he’s talking the whole time, dirty talk spilling from his lips about how you’re so beautiful, especially when you’re falling apart around my cock or that he loves when you moan, can you feel how I’m throbbing inside of you? It’s all for you, does it feel good to know you’re affecting me like this?

His voice is always sultry, always whispered directly into your ear, and while his particular brand of dirty talk is, more or less, mediocre (it’s always too long and makes you think too much; you’d prefer something shorter, something more explicit, something coming from anyone aside from him), Chrollo likes the concept of sex not being quiet. Specifically, he likes when you fill in the silence.

There’s something about the noises you make that make him absolutely feral – similarly to his curiosity about you in everyday life, he wants to understand you sexually. He wants to hear every sound you have to offer – he needs to understand what’s causing you to make that noise and how to keep you making it. He needs to hear every little thing, to have a mental catalogue of the different noises and cries he can pull from your pliable body.

It doesn’t matter if you’re naturally loud or quiet – he will be expecting you to put on a show for him, your body a canvas for him to create a masterpiece on, your every gasp, moan, and sigh a paint stroke that eventually comes together to form you, a piece of art Chrollo wants to keep stolen away from the world forever.

He’s not particularly shy about this desire of his, either – it’s very easy to tell that he’s striving to get you to moan for him, because you’ll feel his fingers work in that certain way, grinding and rubbing in that particular spot, those dark eyes wavering in excitement because he absolutely loves the way you sound gasping his name.

You can tell he’s aiming to get you vocal when he’s pressing his face between your legs, dark hairs tickling your thighs as he diligently works his tongue against your clit, the sensation partnered with the insistent thrusting of his fingers inside you not stopping until you groan his name, and then only getting harder, that same motion being repeated over and over because he needs to hear it again.

He’s like an addict, really – once he hears a noise he finds pleasant (every noise you make, really), he’s trying everything in his power to get you to make it again, wanting to have auditory evidence (to match the slick coating his fingers and the smell of your arousal) that you’re enjoying this, that you’re enjoying him and the way he’s touching you. It’s selfish, really, because while giving you pleasure is great and brings you a step closer to desiring him as he desires you, it quells his possessiveness.

It makes him feel good because it’s proof that he’s affecting you, that the motions and pleasure his body is bringing you is making you feel good, that your brain is mush because of him. It’s proof that your thighs are trembling and shaking because of the way he’s massaging and toying with your clit.

It’s proof that your lips are swollen and puffy and parted because of the way he’s kissing your neck and kneading at your breasts. It’s proof that he’s the only one on your mind, that your every thought is revolving around him him him, that your body and brain can only focus on Chrollo alone.

It makes him feel good, knowing that no other man could possibly be in your thoughts in moments like these, and the more he can get you moaning and screaming and sobbing in pleasure, the higher the likelihood of you focusing solely on him. So really, any time the two of you are intimate, expect your voice to be hoarse the next day – he needs you to be making noise, and he’ll even tell you as much.

He’ll tell you to show me how badly you need me inside you, moan my name and cream on my fingers and I might consider adhering to your wishes.

He’ll tell you to say his name, to tell him that he feels good, and even to narrate exactly what you’re feeling.

(That last one is a favorite of his – it’s so dirty, and it fills him with pride and arousal to hear you say that he feels s’good, your fingers are so big and it’s making me feel so full and good and fuck, Chrollo, please let me come!)

It’s an obsession, truly, one that rivals the one he holds for you – so really, just give him what he wants.

Fake the moans (but be careful, because he can normally tell – though, as he gets closer to his own orgasm, his façade slips and the true lustful, crazed man underneath his carefully constructed exterior rears its head, his snapping hips and messy hair evidence of just how much you affect him. He’s less able to tell apart your fake moans from real ones in these moments, and when he’s right on the edge, any noise from you will have him toppling over, gripping onto you and coming, filling you so fully that it leaks out, white spilling all over your thighs and dripping down his balls.)

He just wants you to be vocal, and it’s in your best interest to meet his demands – the night will be long and very, very painful if you don’t; Chrollo knows your body well enough to overstimulate you past your threshold, the pleasure melting into pain with each orgasm he tears from your body.

Begging

While Chrollo is a difficult man to decipher, one thing you’ll learn about him is that he’s very, very susceptible to your begging.

Of course, he doesn’t always give in to what you want – your escape and freedom, for example, are things he’ll never grant you, no matter how incessantly and long you beg. (And no matter how you offer your body or your fake affections or any number of things.)

He’s stringent about many things, but in the bedroom he’s more or less easy to win over – you just have to know how to do it correctly.

It takes a very specific methodology to get him to listen to your wishes, to have him do exactly what you need in order to feel good. And that methodology is mostly rooted in begging him to do what you want, what you need in order to seek the pleasure you’re wanting.

And frankly, just hearing you say his name and beg him for literally anything has his hips stuttering, arousal spiking through him because god, you must really want him, huh?

There’s something so riveting and right about the power imbalance that you begging him for pleasure sets up; he’s the one in control, giving you what he deems as the right amount of pleasure, controlling your orgasm and deciding when – and if – you’ll be allowed to come.

It’s a power trip that gets his heart racing and his cock flushing bright red, his chest swelling with pride and greed because god, every fucking inch of you belongs to him, and when you acknowledge that it makes him want to fuck you hard enough to make you scream his name.

You’ll need to beg, but even more than that, you’ll need to mix the begging with some sort of compliment. He’s good at telling when you’re lying, though, so the compliment must be somewhat genuine – tell him his fingers feel so good, oh Chrollo you’re gonna make me come, don’t stop! Tell him that he’s so big, you feel so – so big inside me, oh god, please harder, I need you harder!

If you intermix the compliments in with your begs, Chrollo is almost certain to at least consider your wishes, fucking you harder or deeper or angling his fingers just right, anything and everything to get you to keep talking, to keep paying attention to him and telling him how much you need him.

He may not show it, but he really, really wants you to enjoy sex with him, both because seeing you writhe in pleasure gives him pleasure, and also because it means you’re giving him all your focus and attention. So really, if things aren’t going quite as they should to really get you off or to make you feel good, using this master formula will often yield the results you desire – he’s a sap, even if he doesn’t show it, even if he’s not fully aware of it himself.

What he is aware of, though, is this little strategy of yours.

He’s figured it out; you’re not as smooth as you think, and although it boosts his ego and makes his heart race when you compliment him, Chrollo knows there’s an ulterior motive behind your words. And so begins a game of cat and mouse – he likes the way you beg for him, and he doesn’t want you to stop, so he’ll only slightly give in to your request.

This will, in turn, make you beg for more, a new compliment and moans slipping from your lips that get Chrollo gulping and steeling his resolve, his fingers moving slightly to the spot you want them, his pace getting slightly faster, only half-assedly doing what you’d begged for.

The cycle repeats, Chrollo managing to milk you for every last possible bit of praise and desperation for his touch, until he’s eventually giving in, doing things just as you ask for so that you’re a shaking, moaning mess for him, completely falling apart on his fingers. He’s aware of the game you’re playing, and frankly, as time passes Chrollo will begin purposefully not touching you like how he knows you like.

You like to be fingered quickly, with a certain angle and a certain rhythm? Well, he’s finger fucking you at a moderate pace, aiming for a certain spot an inch or so away from your sweet spot, the rhythm just slightly off.

It’ll be enough to get you squirming, your face scrunching up in pleasure and need, your eyes teary and watery as you beg him to go just a hair faster, because it always feels so good when you go fast, please make me feel good, Chrollo!

You’ll go through the cycle three or four times, but he’ll almost always eventually give in – with one big, glaring exception.

Chrollo really likes to bring you to orgasm, it’s true – however, he really, really likes when you beg for permission to orgasm, waiting to fully let go until he’s given you the okay to make a mess all for him.

He wants you to beg him to please let me come, please Chrollo I wanna come for you, all the while he’s holding off just a bit, not quite pushing you over the edge with his thrusts or flicks of his tongue.

He knows your body so well that he’s able to hold you right where he wants you, right on the brink of coming but not quite, just so that you’re unbearably close but needing that one final push. And he’ll milk this out of you, too – he’s unashamed with how he asks you to repeat yourself, to tell him exactly what you need, to moan his name and show him just how badly you want to come for him.

He wants you to be prickling with embarrassment at how unabashedly you shame, loving the way you get all shy and bashful when he tells you to beg me to fuck you into an orgasm, love, and then you’ll get it.

It makes him giddy to see the way you writhe and cry out his name so wantonly, your desperation to find your high trumping over any bit of self-respect you pretend to have, because ultimately you’re choosing him and the pleasure he can give you over this stupid, rebellious side of yourself that’s unwilling to accept his love.

It’s good, a step in the right direction, and by forcing you to beg him permission to orgasm (an orgasm caused by him, no less), Chrollo simultaneously gets to push you a smidge closer to willingly being his, and he also gets to feel you come for him.

(A sight that normally pushes him unbearably close to his own orgasm – just a few thrusts inside you and he’s blowing his load, cum spurting inside you as he gasps your name under his breath, the warmth settling into his stomach both a result of his orgasm and giddiness that you’re starting to come around, aren’t you?)

He just loves when you beg, and although you think you have the power in the situation, thinking you’ve got him figured out, you really, really don’t. You never do, after all, and Chrollo will always outsmart you.

So just tell him you want his cock, beg him to fuck you so hard you won’t be able to walk tomorrow, and he’ll give you just that – not without a few caveats, though.

Oral Fixation

While your collarbone may be his favorite part of your body, Chrollo really, really grows to love your mouth.

He’s always been entranced by the gentle curve of your lips, the shape playing behind his eyelids as he sleeps at night, driving him crazy when you aren’t yet by his side, making sleep – already elusive enough for him – nearly impossible to find.

(You’ll never know, but on nights where he can’t stop thinking of your lovely lips and how soft and warm and bitable they’d be, he’ll begrudgingly turn to his pillow, his own pale pink lips pressing against the silk, his eyes fluttering closed as he presses hesitant kisses against the material. As he gets more comfortable, he’ll move towards using his tongue; letting it flick out against the pillowcase, imagining it’s actually pressing into your mouth, brushing against your own and coaxing it to rub against his, to suck, his own tongue running along your teeth and reaching deeper and deeper into you until there’s not an inch of space he hasn’t touched and licked and tasted -)

He’s thought endlessly of how you might taste; would your saliva be sweet, or perhaps a nice, neutral taste? He’ll lick his lips while he contemplates, unconsciously salivating himself as he imagines how you’d taste as he kisses you, your scent and feel and everything else about you overwhelming him and making him dizzy in the best possible way.

He’s thought of the way you’d place kisses against his skin, how soft your lips would feel against the hard planes of his chest, against the firm, defined muscles of his thighs, against his neck.

He’s spent many, many nights imagining the way your mouth and lips would worship his body; he imagines you’d start with his own lips, kissing him and moaning into his mouth with fervor, your tongue slipping out to meet his, saliva and spit getting all over your chins because every time he imagines kissing you it’s messy, sloppy and earnest and dirty.

He likes to think you’d move onto his jawline next, placing wet, open-mouthed kisses along the sharp line, tracing it from his chin all the way back to the juncture of his jaw, leading up to kiss and lightly suck at his ear.

You’d take his lobe gently between your teeth, lightly pulling and tugging just to hear him harshly exhale, your tongue even coming up to lick at the shell of his ear, your breath warm and sensual as you breath and whisper his name.

You’d move onto his neck, next, sucking kisses and hickies against the pale skin, the perfect canvas for you to leave your artwork against. He wants you to mark him up – he may be the dominant one in the relationship, sure, and he may the one indisputably in charge of everything, but there’s something endearing about wanting to stake your claim on him. It makes him feel good, desired, possessive over you, and he’ll proudly don his coat with the dark marks all along his neck, perhaps even pulling the collar to the side a bit so that others can see that he’s yours.

Then you’ll move down to his chest; he wants to feel you press fast, quick kisses all over the plain of his chest and abdomen, your tongue tracing the lines of his abs and making him shiver. He wants to feel your lips wrapped around his nipples, sucking and running your tongue over the sensitive skin, leaving a wet pop noise as you pull back.

He wants you to kiss along his thighs, the kisses here more harsh and demanding, maybe even sinking your teeth into his skin just to get his eyes rolling to the back of his head, your sudden display of dominance (or brattiness, rather) making something primal sound from the back of his throat.

And of course, Chrollo’s fixation with your mouth extends towards your ability to suck – before you two reach a point of sexual contact, he’ll firmly trace your lips with his fingertips, only to push past them and situate his fingers against your tongue, a small smile on his lips as he sighs softly and tells you to suck, my love, I’m sure you know how.

He’ll watch with wide eyes and baited breath as you work your tongue along his digits, slipping between them and letting your lips suction, the warmth and wetness making his pants tight and his cock ache, desperation nearly sending him over the edge as precum drools from his tip. And god, when you use your mouth on his cock?

Chrollo is a fairly composed man, yes, but even he can’t keep up that image when you’re sucking on him like you’re trying to suck out his soul, your lips gliding up and down his length, the suction and feel of your tongue rubbing against that sensitive spot on the underside of his tip making his abs clench and contract, his hips getting a mind of their own as they thrust and buck and hump.

He loves when you use your mouth on him, and although he tries to let you set the pace yourself and do things at your own leisure and speed (mostly because he likes seeing what you come up with, how you think he’ll be pleased), he’ll reach a point as he nears his orgasm where he takes over, his hands grasping onto your head and physically moving it up and down, controlling the depth and pace as he groans lowly, his orgasm powerful and heady and numbing as he comes, cum spilling down your throat as he holds you tightly against his pelvis, the short black hairs sitting at his navel ticking your nose.

Another spot that makes him melt when you lick and touch is his balls.

They’re always full, heavy, swollen, aching and begging to be fondled and licked and emptied, and what better way than with your soft, pretty lips and your nimble tongue? He likes to watch the way you stroke at his shaft and move your attention to each sack, tongue coming out to lick and tease, the sensation making him suck in a shaky breath – the sound so quiet you very nearly miss it.

He wants you to take on in your mouth, the warmth making his knees feel weak, the feeling of you lightly sucking making him have to clutch onto whatever surface is nearest just to steady himself.

It’s so dirty – seeing the way your lips stretch to accommodate something so big, and by the time you’re through with them he wants his balls to be positively smothered in your spit, glistening in the light and sensitive to the touch because you’ve worked him up so well.

Of course, Chrollo enjoys when you touch him in pretty much any way, but there’s just something about your mouth that he finds himself gravitating towards, because while it’s intimate and wonderful to fuck you, when you use your mouth – something that feels more taboo, more personal, more sacred – well, that’s a different thing, isn’t it? It means you want him, you want to taste him, that you like his aftertaste of musk and cum to linger in your mouth long after you’ve finished him off.

Chrollo just likes the implications of it all – and seeing you on your knees or feeling your lips against his neck will just make him shiver, excitement and lust and love pooling in his gut, all directly at sweet, perfectly little you.

OTHER NOTABLE KINKS INCLUDE:

Holding your hand

It’s not really a kink, but you’ll notice quite quickly into your sexual relationship with Chrollo that he has a habit of always managing to interlock your fingers when he’s fucking you.

The first few times you’ll think it’s sweet, deciding that although it seems out of character for a mass murderer to want to hold you hand when he’s already stuffed as deeply inside of you as possible, it’s kind of endearing.

It seems like a manipulation tactic at first, honestly – you don’t trust Chrollo, not at all, and despite the fact that you’ve caved and given into your bodily desires to have him touch you and pleasure you, you don’t like him. Maybe this is some ploy to get you to fall for him – you’ve seen him reading articles and researching on ways to make women feel loved and valued during sex, his dark eyes diligently and eagerly scanning the words.

(You didn’t bring this up to him, however – the conversation that would’ve ensued would’ve been unbearable, and what would you even say? Chrollo, why do you want me to feel wanted during sex? What are you playing at? Is it not enough for you that I’ve already admitted I want you to touch me?)

The truth, actually, is none of those things – of course, he does view sex as a way to bring you closer to him and get you closer and closer to returning his feelings, but the hand holding actually isn’t something he’s meticulously planned.

The constant stimulation and attention to your clit, he’d known from the beginning – making you come feels good, yes, but he needs you to enjoy it, to realize that he can give you pleasure consistently, that he knows his way around your body. But the hand holding?

Well, the first time he fucks you, he’s genuinely gone – you can’t tell, not really, but from the moment he slips inside of you, he’s fighting to keep his composure, his hips begging him to just ruin you, to fuck into you as hard and fast as he can – even if it means spilling himself inside of you in as little as two minutes. He finds himself drifting away and getting lost in the pleasure that first time, and subconsciously his hand is finding yours, needing something to grip onto, something to ground him and keep him from coming much too early.

His cold fingers lace with your own, pressing your hand against the mattress as he continues humping his hips into yours, and he’ll squeeze your hand when the pleasure gets especially strong, his grip so tight it nearly bruises you.

He needs to hold your hand – it’s comforting, but more than that it keeps him connected to you.

It feels intimate, like something reserved only for you, because even though he’s slept with other women before, never has it been like this. Never has he actively been trying to make them feel good, and never has he actively been hoping they’ll want to fuck him again and again and again, something that he ardently, feverishly hopes you feel.

Holding your hand becomes something of a tradition; it gets easier to not immediately orgasm when he slips inside you, but still his hand moves on its own, capturing yours and squeezing, his dark eyes boring into yours and the veins on his hand standing out.

It’s romantic, he thinks, and even when he’s kissing you and throwing your legs over his shoulders, balls clapping loudly against your ass as he pants and whispers your name under his breath, his hand will stay in yours.

And his grip is tight – you can’t pull your hand out, he won’t let you. You’re not allowed to, because this makes the sex special, intimate, meaningful – it makes the two of you closer, your bodies truly united in more ways than one.

He loves you, he promises, and frankly, it’s best if you don’t mention this habit – he won’t tell you the truth, instead letting a small smile flit his lips and telling you cryptically that it helps me know if you’re feeling good.

That’s bullshit – it’s all for him, but you don’t need to know that gripping your hand like its his lifeline is the only thing keeping him sane when he fucks you – it’s the only thing keeping him from bucking into you like a wild animal, filling you full of cum like some sort of predator.

Voyeurism

Chrollo has a rather nasty habit of watching you. He’s not quite as overt as some other members of the Troupe, but it’s not hard to notice the way those dark eyes are always trained on your figure, observing, scrutinizing, staring with an intensity that makes you feel like a bug under a microscope.

He just finds you utterly fascinating, and he honestly finds himself unable to look away from you. You’re captivating in every sense of the word, and his feelings don’t change when it comes to the bedroom – he’s constantly, constantly looking at you.

The eye contact can be sexy, sometimes, in the right circumstance, but most of the time the intensity makes you nervous, embarrassment settling in your gut because you feel like he can see every inch of you, every imperfection and flaw.

He’s always looking at you while he’s fucking you, those eyes boring into yours as his hips snap into you, faster and faster and harder and harder, watching your face as you get close to coming, seeing how you fall apart for him and cry out his name.

He’s staring and breathing a bit harshly when you’re taking him down your throat, mesmerized by the way your lips slot around him, how his cock appears and disappears again and again, your little gagging noises when you take just a bit too far down making him near feral.

He’s even staring at you while he sucks on your clit, fingers curling inside you as he looks up at you from under his lashes, the eye contact making you shy away and close your thighs around his head, just wishing he'd stop staring at you like you’re some slab of meat for him to devour.

But more than anything, Chrollo likes to observe the way you look when you’re feeling good – pleasure looks good on you, and especially before you allow him to touch you in an overtly sexual way, Chrollo will have you touch yourself for him, all the while he gets a front row seat.

It’s thrilling, the way you spread yourself open on your fingers, tugging your lip between your teeth as you rub small, tight circles against your clit, your thighs trembling from both the pleasure and the weight of his gaze.

He’ll settle himself into a chair at the end of the bed, sitting with his legs crossed and his fingers digging into the armrests, his eyes trained directly on you. He’ll alternate between staring at your face and staring at your cunt, too entranced by it all to fully commit to one or the other.

He likes seeing the way you work yourself, how you flick your fingers or turn your wrist, the pace and tempo and precision of your movements.

He likes to stare at your breasts, watching them heave in time with your chest, seeing your nipples perk up and pebble up, looking hard and pinchable and suckable, like the perfect spot to rest his lips.

He’ll stare at the way your thighs tremble and jerk together occasionally, the pleasure and risqué of being Chrollo’s entertainment making everything feel heavier, stronger, more intense.

He’ll request that you finger yourself or play with your clit or touch your tits, anything and everything because he wants to see everything.

 Of course, it’s nothing new to him – he’d watched you masturbate countless times before he stole you away, enjoying the vulnerability of it all, your weak, alluring form totally unaware of the eyes watching your most intimate moments.

But now, now, it’s different – you know you’re being watched now, and that adds a certain layer to your actions that makes Chrollo lick his lips, because while seeing your naked body and hearing your barely contained moans has his cock standing at attention in mere seconds, the fact that you’re reacting so strongly to knowledge that it’s Chrollo staring gets his ears feeling hot and his hands twitching, aching to reach out and touch you.

There’s something alluring about the fact that you’re acting all shy and bashful because it’s him that’s watching you like a hawk, his cock clearly hard against his stomach as he stares, obviously enjoying the sight.

He likes to know that he’s affecting you, that you’re thinking of him, that he’s on your mind as you play with yourself and make yourself come – it’s hot, frankly, and although it’s a test of his self control (one he struggles with far more than you’ll ever know), watching you bring yourself to orgasm is the best foreplay he can imagine.

Because then, he can watch himself bring you to orgasm, and isn’t that just the prettiest, loveliest sight?

Isn’t you falling apart for him, moaning and writhing and scratching down his back, the single most valuable thing on this Earth?

He’s a thief, after all, and anything valuable is his for the taking – including you.

BIGGEST FANTASY:

Chrollo is, without a doubt, extraordinarily possessive. You’re completely and utterly his, his property and under his ownership, to the point where he’ll often refer to you as such in passing with another Troupe member, no matter how demeaning and belittling his hummed response of yes, she’s my most prized possession may be.

You’re the only thing he’s ever wanted this badly, the only thing he’s ever wanted so much that it physically hurts, and he has no qualms with acting on these possessive urges, claiming you as his and only his.

However, Chrollo presents an odd juxtaposition in bed – while he absolutely does not want anyone else to ever see you in such a vulnerable, intimate position, there’s a certain allure to the idea of fucking you in public that he simply can’t shake off.

Of course, he’s thoroughly unwilling to allow you to be seen by other people, for your perfect, lovely body to be ogled by other human beings, those who are completely unworthy of being graced by your soft curves, your pretty moans, your twitching thighs and dripping hole.

You’re his to ogle and play with and make a mess of, and although the idea of another man watching you fall apart for Chrollo is appealing in its own right, he’d never be willing to stomach the idea of you seeing another man – or another man seeing you – when you’re in your most vulnerable, intimate position.

And these conflicting desires lead him to a sort of problem. On the one hand, he wants more than anything to fuck you in front of an audience, because what signifies ownership more than claiming you publicly, and what more can he do to show the world that you’re his, that he’s made his mark on you and you’ll never be loved by another?

But on the other, he can’t stand the thought of actually fucking you in public, which leads to a compromise – that is, it’s just so easy to spend a night in a bedroom high, high above the streets, the city skyline out the window and from the balcony mesmerizing, the dark night making the lights shine and the people they illuminate shine as well.

It’s not ideal, but Chrollo has found that the only way he can think of to satisfy this intense sexual fantasy with you is to simply fuck you in a space where no one can see you, but you can see everyone – thus, the window of some fancy, swanky hotel should do the trick, right?

Then everyone, whether knowingly or not, will be witnessing Chrollo claim every fucking inch of you, right?

It’s perfect, and something he’s so, so desperate to try out with you – just the thought gets his body feeling hot, his pants uncomfortably tight, and this strong, dizzying excitement brewing in his chest.

“The room is really lovely, Chrollo.” You compliment, appraising the room bathed in maroon and gold, the intricacies of the wallpaper and bed sheets catching your eye. It’s a simple one bed room, an adjoining bathroom to the side, but the real showstopping aspect of the horribly overpriced room is the set of floor to ceiling, pristine glass windows facing the night city, the various buildings too far to truly make out any specifics. It’s situated downtown, but Chrollo has made sure to secure a room on the fiftieth floor – towering above any nearby skyscrapers, thus giving him the privacy he’s been fantasizing of. 

            “I’m glad you’re enjoying it.” Comes his response, smooth and suave, though you think you can hear the smallest smidge of pride.

            Making your way towards the windows, you stare across the sleeping city skyline, trying to memorize every detail you can, while Chrollo watches you from across the room, excitement swirling in his chest at the prospect of what’s to come. 

            He’s quick to join you, standing beside you and glancing towards your awed face, chuckling softly and using his thumb to trace the line of your cheekbone. “You’re staring, love.”

            You blink a few times, before throwing him a playful glare. “And so are you.”

            He’s silent for a moment, before he leans down to press his lips against your own, his dark eyes fluttering closed. “How could I not, when something so beautiful is standing before me?”

            His words are sweet, and they have you bashful despite yourself – something Chrollo doesn’t hesitate to exploit, as he pulls you in deeper to the kiss. His hand rests snugly at your waist, the other coming up to cup the back of your neck, his lips working faster against your own, though the kiss is still softer, less insistent. 

            That changes quickly though, as your hand reaches out to brush against the growing bulge resting in his black slacks, a small hum pressed against your lips as Chrollo unconsciously moves closer to the action. Soon you’re unabashedly groping him, fingers idly squeezing and lightly pressing against him as he deepens the kiss, lips getting needier as the minutes fly by, small gasps and breaks for air the only sounds reverberating through the night air of the hotel room. 

            Insistent hands grasp onto the hem of your shirt, pulling upwards and exposing the expanse of your stomach, the soft skin immediately felt and caressed by the man before you, his fingertips oddly soft for his line of work. He pulls back slightly from the kiss, dark eyes slowly opening to meet your hazy gaze, a small smile quirking on his lips as he moves forward to your ear, breath ghosting against the sensitive skin. 

            “Undress for me, darling.” His words are sin, his voice smoother than silk, the timbre making a shiver race up your spine as you gulp and follow his instructions, peeling each layer of cloth separating your body from his wandering touch. Chrollo’s dark eyes take every movement in, excitement burning in his chest as your body is slowly revealed to him, your skin soft and supple and touchable. 

            His fingers twitch. 

            He’s quick to follow suit, sliding off his jacket, pants and undergarments, leaving him nude in all his glory, prompting you to rake your eyes across his sculpted chest, the lines of his biceps, the sharp ‘v’ of his navel, and of course, the eager, flushed cock pressing harshly against his lower stomach, practically begging for your attention and touch. 

            “You’re beautiful, my dear,” He starts, approaching you and bringing a thumb up to trace your cheekbone, that same small smile decorating his lips. His lashes are long, easy to see from this distance, and as your lips part to respond, he cuts you off with his thumb placed against your tongue, his eyes shining brighter. 

            “Why don’t we show the world just how beautiful you really are?” His voice is oddly uneven, the excitement dancing in those dark depths of his gaze making you arch your brows slightly, confusion lacing your features as Chrollo gently pushes your shoulders. The glass hitting your backside is cold, the smooth surface alien against you as you squeak slightly.

            “What – what do you mean?” You ask, voice small as he sharply inhales, his other hand coming down to run along your side as his eyes trail along your lips and down to your breasts. He smiles as he takes in your nipples, the skin puckering. 

            “Wouldn’t it be such a shame to keep a beauty like you hidden from the world? Don’t you want everyone to know,” he starts, leaning into your neck before kissing down until he reaches the juncture of your shoulder. “That you belong to me?”

            He bites down, not hard enough to draw blood, but enough to get you gasping out and throwing your head back slightly, the glass cold against your scalp. 

            “Would you like that? Do you want the world to know how much you crave me?” He asks, his voice low and husky. 

            You bite your lip and nod, murmuring out an agreement. 

            “Can’t hear you darling, try again.” 

Embarrassment creeps up your neck as you tell him in a louder voice, “Yes Chrollo, please, want everyone to know that my body was made for you, please!”

He shivers against you, his bare skin against yours making your head spin. His eyes are wide as he stares down at you. “Good, because I’m going to fuck you hard enough that no one will question who owns you.”

And with that, he’s spinning you around so that you’re face to face with the glass. The material is cold, your nipples rubbing against it and making your thighs rub together at the strange sensation. A sea of lights fall before you, the city glowing from so many meters in the air. 

His hands settle at your waist, squeezing slightly before sliding down over your hips, the smooth breath he exhales by your air making you shiver. Every sense feels heightened, and although you know no one can see you from so far below, it still sends a thrill through you at the idea that someone could, if they tried hard enough. Eventually his hands lightly pull at your hips, pulling your ass back towards his pelvis and making you bend over slightly, so that your cunt is poised out for him while your breasts still press against the cold glass.

Chrollo hums from behind you, a finger tracing down your spine and ending up right over your fluttering hole, slipping inside carefully and feeling the way you clench down on him, the sharp little gasp you give him only making another bead of precum drool from his tip, his groin throbbing and pulsing with the need to bury himself inside you, to thoroughly fuck the tight, warm cunt he’s feeling around his fingers.

He pulls them out abruptdly, making you whine a bit and wiggle your hips, the sight forcing Chrollo to tightly shut his eyes, grappling for control over himself. “Now love, in order to let everyone know just who you belong to, you’ll have to be loud enough to hear, yes?”

You nod, muttering something in agreement, but Chrollo cuts you off with a wide smile, his eyes flashing as he grips his cock and lines himself up. “Scream for me.”

And with that he’s pushing himself inside, not pausing for a moment to let you adjust. He’s thrusting into you with force, the sheer strength making you rock forward with each pulse of his hips. Your hands press against the glass, your cheek smooshed against the cold material as you moan and cry out his name, the angle hitting you deep and the eroticism of the whole situation making your head swim.

Chrollo leans in close behind you, his breath already a bit heavy and ragged. “Do you like – ngh, do you like this love? Getting fucked while so many people could be watching?”

You moan out a yes in response, gasping and feeling your whole body shake as his fingers snake between your legs and begin working at your clit.

He laughs breathlessly behind you, his chest pressing against your back. His lips brush against your ear, his breath hot and heavy, and you feel him twitch inside you, his orgasm looming near.

“Let’s give them a good show, yes?”

            And when he pulls out a few minutes later, turning you around and letting his cum spraying from his tip and landing on your chest and stomach in ropes, he can only flutter his eyes closed and mutter your name, before peeling them open and exhaling shakily.

            He’ll push you right back up against the window, a knee forcing itself between your legs to open you back up again, his cock still hard and insistent and aching to finish inside you this time. Meanwhile, his cum smears against your skin and the glass, leaving a film that makes you shiver – the glass is cold but his cum is hot. You moan as he forces himself back inside you, immediately continuing with the brutal, rough pace he’d taken earlier, determined to let the whole city see how prettily you take his cum inside you this time.

            And when you’re done, some forty five minutes later, with two loads of warm, runny cum spilling from between your legs, the smears of his first orgasm all over the glass and your tits will only make him lick his lips, arousal once again simmering in his gut.

            Maybe this time the city would like to see how pretty you look when you squirt.

Random Meleoron Relationship Headcanons: -Since he's part chameleon, he's probably really grabby. He'll just randomly latch on to you. -If you're tall he'll just straight up climb you and hang on.🦎 - Definitely wraps his tail around you too, this is more so out of affection.❤ - He's likely the big spoon, again because of the chameleon thing. - Back to the grabbing, he probably gropes you when he's invisible, he won't necessarily pinch your butt or anything, but there is also a strong chance that he might.😈 - Y'all have a lot of dates at home, lots of netflix, anime, and YouTube binges. Maybe some Netflix and chill?😏 - Also because he's part chameleon, he's often really cold, that's why he's always wearing his sweatshirt and pants, he loves warm comfy clothes.❤ - Because he has to latch on to people a lot, he has amazing grip strength, also because he is a chameleon. This means you will never even have a chance of winning the blanket tug of war. He's cold okay?🥶 - He will guard the thermostat within an inch of his life. "What do you mean you're hot? It's barely even warm!"🌡 - If you happen to have left some food out, especially anything he likes, it will be gone. You'll be in the kitchen and he's on the couch, I promise you, the second you turn around, he's gonna use that tongue to snatch whatever it was.🥭 -Should you catch him doing this, he'll play dumb and turn invisible so you can't get him.

- Chameleons sleep about 4 hours longer than people do, so he sleeps in a lot, hope you aren't a morning person, the best solution is either you being a late sleeper as well or him going to sleep and you going to sleep later so you both wake up at the same time.😴 - You won't be able to get up before him for the most part, like I said, he is big spoon and has incredible grip strength. You are stuck until morning my friend.☀️ - He's actually fairly tall, I couldn't find his actual height for this one, so I had to compare him to characters with canon heights and play around with a height comparison chart to figure it out. - He is about 6ft tall, or 182.9 cm. When looking at him and gon, who is about a head shorter than him, and Colt who is only as tall as meleoron up to the top of his ears, it makes sense. Plus we know Gon and Killua's height so it makes determining their height fairly easy.📏

-I also did the math for Colt and he stands at about 5 foot 7.5 inches or 171.4 cm. - He would probably like a crackhead s/o or a chill s/o, especially someone kindhearted but that isn't naive. - Y'all probably watch YouTube in bed together to fall asleep.🎦 NSFW. - He may or may not use his invisibility to watch you changing or showering, I doubt he'd admit to it.😅 - He cares that both of you are satisfied at the end of the night, especially making sure you aren't in pain or anything.🥰 - The oral KING. WHAT THAT TONGUE DO MY FRIEND. He doesn't have the weird suction type thing on his tongue like most chameleons, but he does have a long-ass tongue.👅 - I feel like he'd be the type to at some point ask you to sit on his face, he can also hold his breath so it isn't a problem. (I saw a fic of him similar to this prompt but I can't find it anymore)🥴 - I think he'd probably be a slow and sensual pace kind of guy, his tail definitely wraps around your ankle or leg.🦎 - He's a thigh guy, he likes thighs and butts, mostly thighs though, wear thigh-highs and a miniskirt or short shorts and it's over, you've broken him, he's a drooling mess. He's trying to pay attention to what you're saying but he's only capable of smiling and nodding while he stares at your thighs.🤤 - Y'all know how he's good with his tongue? Same goes for the tail. - If you have breasts, he WILL NOT honk your tits aggressively unless YOU ASK. At least not intentionally. (He has a lot of grip strength) will absolutely play with, touch, lick, and suck on your breasts but he won't squish the aggressively. He knows it can be uncomfortable or painful, and has probably seen other ants getting smacked for trying to honk Zazan's breasts, most didn't live to tell the tale.🍈🍈 - If y'all are feeling risky he might use God's Accomplice and fuck you against a tree.🌳 - May leave some love bites on you, mostly hickeys though.

You can't tell me he doesn't leave love bites!

𖤐 — foot job, foot fetish, nsfw, idk chrollo being a different type of freak, he gotta thing for feet idc what anyone says.

Chrollo Lucilfer would get you a dainty little anklet (no doubt stolen), just to be able to put around your ankle and touch up on your feet without it being strange. It starts with him fitting the chain around the small expanse of your ankle clasping the two ends together. Chrollo continues by placing a chaste kiss on the inside of your ankle where the small chain rests, then another to the top of your foot, toes curling and perfectly manicured nails moving at the sensation. Chrollo brings your other foot into his hand pulling it to his groin and rubbing it along his clothed cock, getting himself hard with your foot. Understanding you begin to rub along his cock, causing Chrollo to let out a sigh at the needed friction. He drops your foot in favor of pulling his slacks and boxers down, his hard cock springing free from its confines and hitting his clothed abdomen. Giggles began to resonate from you as you bring both feet up to Chrollo’s erect cock, slowly jerking him off. Chrollo’s eyes closed in bliss, one of the few moments the man would be seen without his guard up. The man was in pure ecstasy when his cock was getting stroked by your pretty little feet.

masterlist

𖤐 — nsfw, drugs, alcohol, dubious consent (both r high), idk might not be coherent i’m a lil high ngl

I feel like Chrollo’s the type to get really overly horny while he’s high, like one second you’ll be snorting lines with him, and next you’re on your back with his hard dick pressed against your pussy. He doesn’t get high often (his job doesn’t exactly let him do fuck all whenever he wants), but when he does he goes all out, not only for himself— but for you as well. He personally likes coke above all, but whatever you want he’ll get it— marijuana, pills, LSD, whatever you want, name it, and he’ll get it. He’ll have a bottle of wine and a shot of liquor waiting for you to wash down your Xanax or smoke. Snorting back-to-back lines it’s no wonder Chrollo’s as hard as a rock when he rubs against your slowly dampening cunt, and you’re just as high as he is, movements slowing, mind numb, and just as needy. He dives down to kiss you, liquor seeping through his spit, the kiss is porn worthy, all teeth, spit, and tongue clashing dangerously hard. He’s pulling at your bottoms with such vigor and speed it has you gasping into his mouth, and then you’re grabbing at his belt buckle, nimble fingers thumbing to get his pants down. You both meet in the middle with Chrollo thrusting into you, he finds himself groaning into your ear as you moan into his. He loves having sex with you already, but being high while doing it? That’s a whole different feeling for him. He loves it and doesn’t think he’ll be giving it up anytime soon.

masterlist

if i do i’ll make a character/kink list!!

request rules (closed)

everything has to be x fem!reader, they should be answered within a week of submitting, and i’ll do pretty much anything (incest, non-con/rape, piss, age gaps, yandere, etc etc) except for scat!!! as for fandoms & characters—

masterlist

jujutsu kaisen

𖤐 — satoru gojo, suguru geto, toji fushiguro, sukuna ryoumen, nanami kento, choso kamo, megumi fushiguro, itadori yuji, mei mei, shoko ieiri, yuki tsukumo, toge inumaki, & okkotsu yuta.

hunter x hunter

𖤐 — chrollo lucifer, hisoka marow, illumi zoldyck, feitan portor, kurapika kurta, shalnark ryuseih, ging freecs, & pariston hill.

my hero academia

𖤐 — shota aizawa, shinsou hitoshi, dabi, hawks, shigaraki tomura, shoto todoroki, izuku midoriya, katsuki bakugo, endeavor, mirko, himiko toga, & amajiki tamaki.

haikyuu!!

𖤐 — rintaro suna, atsumu miya, osamu miya, eita semi, sakusa kiyoomi, oikawa tooru, iwaizumi hajime, ushijima wakatoshi, tendou satori, kita shinsuke, akaashi keiji, kageyama tobio, kozume kenma, kuroo tetsuro, bokuto koutarou, sawamura daichi, hinata shoyo, asahi azumane, tsutomu goshiki, & koshi sugawara.

tokyo revengers

𖤐 — mikey sano, draken ryuguji, haitani ran, haitani rindo, hakkai shiba, takashi mitsuya, chifuyu matsuno, kazutora hanemiya, taiju shiba, keisuke baji, shuji hanma, shinichiro sano, kurokawa izana, hajime kokonoi, seishu inui, & sanzu haruchiyo.

demon slayer

𖤐 — kyojuro rengoku, giyu tomioka, sanemi shinazugawa, tengen uzui (+ wives), muzan kibutsuji, akaza, doma, muichiro tokito, gyomei himejima, obanai iguro, mitsuri kanroji, & shinobu kocho.

attack on titan

𖤐 — levi ackerman, eren yeager, mikasa ackerman, armin arlert, zeke yeager, reiner braun, hange zoe, erwin smith, jean kirstein, connie springer, & yelena.

bungo stray dogs

𖤐 — osamu dazai, atsushi nakajima, yukichi fukuzawa, ranpo edogawa, doppo kunikida, chuuya nakahara, ougai mori, ryuunosuke akutagawa, akiko yosano, fyodor dostoyevsky, nikolai gogol, tetcho suehiro, & edgar allen poe.

black butler

𖤐 — sebastian michaelis, ciel phantomhive, alois trancy, claude faustus, & undertaker.

kakegurui

𖤐 — moomobami ririka, momobami kirari, ikishima midari, jabami yumeko, saotome mary, & yuriko nishinotouin.

Could you write what kinks you think chrollo may have?

𖤐 — nsfw, kinks ofc, def not all but sum of my faves for chrollo <3

Feet — I’ve said it once before but Chrollo definitely has a thing for feet. He likes seeing them in heels when you dress up for him. He’ll paint your toenails, making sure to pick the colors perfectly to match you best. He’ll steal dainty little anklets, just to be able to put them on you.

Hair Pulling — Not only does he like pulling your hair during sex, but he loves nothing more when you start to tug on his. He loves it when you thread your fingers through his soft black hair, tugging gently to get him closer as he eats you out. Your hands pushing at the back of his head when you both go in for a heated kiss, touch tangled into his hair just like your tongues.

Eye Contact — There’s something so intimate about staring into your eyes while he’s inside of you. He’ll glance down every now and then to look at the way he’s pushing into you, staring right back into your needy eyes when he looks up. It’s the reason he always wants to fuck in missionary.

Praise — It’s his favorite thing to do because it’s nothing but the truth. Every groan of how pretty you sound when you moan for him, how good you are for him, how perfect you are— how perfect your pussy is, he means every last breath of his praises to you.

Creampie — Something about watching his cum drip from you, seeing your pretty little pussy twitch from the fullness of his cum inside you, he’d never get enough of it. Just being so completely raw while inside of you, feeling himself drag against you with nothing in his way, knowing he could violate and ruin your cunt at any moment.

masterlist

How do you think chrollo would take care of his s/o if they were blacked out drunk or so high they could barely function do you think he would take advantage of the situation or do you think he would take care of his S/o or even both?

𖤐 — nsfw, alcohol, dubious consent, public stuff, pool stuff, idk took the prompt and ran w it

Slurred words and wavering movements are all you are as you make your way to Chrollo, you’d slipped right from his grasp the second the two of you entered the venue in favor of finding the alcohol, and giving Chrollo his time to steal what from who.

But now here you were, as gorgeous as ever, albeit a little sloppy than what he’s used to while sober. Your hips swayed beautifully, the red satin of your dress moving flawlessly with your waist, hips, and bra-less tits— he could only imagine what your ass would look like, your hair was slightly tousled from your drunkenness, once untouched makeup now slightly smudged from your carelessness, every last inch of you was drunk in greedily by not only Chrollo but others as well. He can understand the prying eyes, but only to an extent, and he wouldn’t hesitate to kill them if they tried anything more.

Soon Chrollo finds himself as your babysitter during the drive back to your shared motel room, he opens the car door for you grabbing your waist before you can fall over yourself. You're fine he soon realizes as you steady yourself and drag yourself from his grip, making your way to the motel pool. The black-haired man huffs, amused by your behavior but soon follows you to the gated and fairly private area, you slip in the gate before him, blocking you completely from his view.

And as he slowly opens the gate door he can’t help but smirk at the sight of your bare tits— your bare everything, the only piece of clothing being a lacy black thong, that left nothing to the imagination. Soon Chrollo finds his own clothes (minus his boxers, it was only fair) on the floor beside yours. He’s on you by the time you come up for air, a hand is on your face pushing back your wet hair as his other pulls your body towards his, you grind yourself against him as he leans in to kiss you. He can taste the alcohol on your tongue as he moves to push you toward the deepest part of the pool, propping you up against the wall, making it easier to grind against each other. Your bare tits are pressed against his bare chest and you can feel his hard-on pressing against you under the water.

“Let’s go inside, yeah?”

masterlist

your chrollo high dubcon was toooo good, think we can get a spinoff or something along these lines? alternatively a kn1f3 play/kink, he is a thief after all.

(also lowkey surprised people still ask for chrollo but am super glad they do)

𖤐 — nsfw, toxic relationships, drugging, date r@p3, drug use, drinking, dub-con, chrollo’s my husband ong…

Chrollo likes it when you’re properly drugged up, so vulnerable to him, he likes to tie you up when you’re like this— likes to watch you squirm. When he has your mind numb with roofies, no doubt what spiked your wine just moments before. Just a couple weeks ago you had told him you couldn’t stomach anything other than wine and champagne, he’d called it ‘a very feminine choice,’ humming as a small smirk appeared on his face. And now you sat in a gleaming man’s lap just after 4 glasses of the expensive wine, most likely stolen, you know you should be nowhere near drunk at this rate, and you gleam back at the fact he’s comfortable enough to share his kinks with you— you love it. You love the way he teases you with the tip of his cold blades, chilly wedding band gripping your jaw to run the silver up the delicate skin of your neck, it all made your thighs clench with need. It all intensified your high, pussy feeling all the more soaked on the lace on your panties. You love your time with him, you love this kind of time with him.

masterlist

the hallway was slightly dimmed by the low fluorescent light that decorated the room. a black telephone sat on the right side of the hallway, the wire swaying side and side for it was previously used. 

a six-foot-tall figure stood by the telephone table, his knees slightly bending as he gripped onto the table for some leverage. the dim lighting only added some mood to the moment that he himself was the victim of.

the man started to slowly buck his hips repeatedly begging for release as he whimpered desperately. “not here, honey. anywhere but here.” he pleaded as your head bobbed up and down his length.

your hand massaged the rest of his pale cock—giving the vein that ran on the underside of his cock some extra attention—that your throat couldn’t reach. no matter how hard you tried you couldn’t get your throat to open for those extra inches you desired.

“ri-right ‘ere, gotoh.” you managed to mumble out with his dick still in your mouth. “now.” you demanded, proceeding to suck on the erect, throbbing dick faster.

gotoh was caught off guard and started to entangle his fingers within your hair. his dick immediately hit the back of your throat as you let out a high squeal that sent shivers down his spine. “so, so good for me. aren’t you?” he praised as he continued to force his dick down your throat.

you could feel his cock getting larger and his thrusts getting needier and needier by the moment. “‘m almost there darling. stay with me, alright?” he said as his voice started to get more raspier and paced.

your jaw started to hurt once he started to get closer and closer to his orgasm, but you decided to ignore the pain because you're his good little girl. tiny hands began to hold onto his muscular thighs for some leverage and stability.

your gags could be heard from a million miles away, hoping that none of the zoldyck family members would come in at this moment. “cumming baby, ‘m cumming.” gotoh warned before a few more doing a few more thrusts and releasing into your mouth.

you choked and gagged on his length as he pulled out and took a few breaths. during those few breaths that he took, you swallowed his cum and looked at him with those pretty little eyes of yours. “so pretty baby. so fuckin’ pretty.” he praised as he kissed your forehead and lifted you up carrying you bridal style to his private bedroom that butler’s at the zoldyck mansion had just for themselves.

“be prepared for round two.” he said as he laid you on the bed gently grabbing a gold object in the shape of a circle.

🔍︎ | gotoh & fem!reader

⟳ | rough sex, pounding?, pet names, coin play?, penetrative sex, consensual sex, unprotective sex, gotoh being a little nervous.

🖊 | 0.9k (edited, lowercase intended).

π | someone requested a part two so here you go! also, thank you all for 100 followers!!!! i really appreciate all the support!!! (100 post coming soon).

he flipped the gold item back and forth between his fingers, reverting the symbols between ‘heads’ and ‘tails’ until his movements stopped.

he focused his gaze upon you as he mesmerized your features once again. it was almost like he was taking a picture with his mind, taking it over and over again.

he took a large gulp—that wasn’t audible—as he came closer to your sitting figure. gotoh tightly held the golden item closely to his hand and directed it to his heart.

you placed your warm hand on his cold cheek, slightly touching his sideburns whilst rubbing his cheek to comfort him.

“gotoh . . .” you mumbled under your breath, enough for him to hear you. his eyes shot up from the angle they were in, focusing his eyes onto you as he snapped out of his daydream.

“need you . . .” you mumbled again, this time traveling your hand all the way to his exposed dick. gotoh let out a breathy groan as he grabbed onto your hand, signaling a halt to your movements.

“baby, is everything alright?” you questioned worriedly, looking at his pale skin tone and how red it's gotten over the past few hours.

“mmh.” he groaned. “my treat tonight, love.” gotoh hungrily jumped on top of you and lathered you in kisses personally from him and him himself.

god how he loves marking you. he wants everyone—even the zoldyck family—to know that you belong to him. only him. no one else but him.

gotoh was marking you almost everywhere to the point where your body was polluted by his love bites.

“mmh.” gotoh said, sitting on his knees looking at the wonderful piece of art he had just created. “wonderful.” he groaned, tightening his palm yet again.

you were worried about him. gotoh is not usually the one that gets to experience sexual romance here and there. of course you give him daily kisses and give him love and affection, but he’s too busy protecting the zoldyck’s to the point where he doesn’t get a break.

but thank god they let him off for one day. just one day. that’s all he needed.

“gotoh, honey. are you okay?” you asked yet again, placing your hand on top of his clenched one. he nodded, “i’m fine.” he tightened his hand again to the point where crescent marks were being left in the middle of his palm.

“i just . . . want to try something new, if that’s okay.”

your expression widened.

gotoh was always such a vanilla, loving man. sometimes he could be rough, but he would stick to the casual rough. nothing more nothing less. he would always make sure you were okay.

of course, you didn’t know he wanted to spice your sexual life up a little more. you never knew that. gotoh always stuck to the script. but it seems like a new part of him was going to come out to you. some side of your wonderful husband you haven’t seen before.

he opened his palm slowly, revealing the golden object that you had yet to see.

your eyes widened.

“is this one of your coins?” you asked, holding it between your pointer finger and your thumb.

gotoh nodded, adjusting his glasses that were somewhat still on his face.

(he remembered and put them down before they got lost or broken).

“yes, that is correct. one of my personal coins.” gotoh said, taking it away from you with such care. “i would like to try a little challenge with you.” he said in a worrying tone.

you raised your eyebrow and started to massage his hand, “what kind of challenge?”

curiosity got the best of you.

you should’ve never asked that question.

you should’ve kept your mouth shut.

sooner than you know it, gotoh had you pinned underneath him, pounding his cock into you at max speed. he was reaching lengths you didn’t even know existed. lengths that you didn’t know existed in the human body.

you were probably on your tenth or eleventh orgasm by now, you lost track. matter fact, you weren’t even keeping track. you were too busy turning off other sounds that could distract you from gotoh’s heavy breathing or the rare sweat that dripped off of his forehead onto your sweaty skin.

you were too focused on the muffled sounds of ‘pap pap pap’ coming from the two of you. you were too busy looking at the way you and gotoh's body connected. analyzing his cock feature by feature—even though you see it on the daily.

you just couldn’t keep your hands to yourself. at this point, you didn’t even know where you were.

in an instant, gotoh let out a large groan as he locked his hands on top of your head, burying his cock into you full thrust. spurts of white, hot cum was entering your womb.

you could feel it, every single drop of it.

“oh god, baby. just so damn perfect. aren’t you? yeah?” he praised, giving your forehead a little kiss.

gotoh opened his palm and started to put the coin in between his thumb and his finger. you heard a little flicking noise that suddenly came to an end for a little while.

“heads or tails baby?” gotoh asked, holding the coin in his palm, waiting for an answer.

you were too fucked out to speak, let alone talk.

you held out a finger, signaling that you chose heads.

“let’s see.” gotoh opened his palm to reveal that the coin was tails.

you threw your head back as your husband tucked the coin back into his hand.

“better get ready, baby.” he warned.

“this is gonna be a long night.”

oh my days. gee willikers. where do i start. my apologies for not posting for a long time. there was some technical difficulties with my laptop for a long time. sorry for the long pause. and GYATTTTTTTTTTTTTTT WHAT THE FUCK⁉⁉⁉⁉⁉⁉⁉ YALL GOT MY RECENT POST TO 1.2K LIKES? WHAT IN THE WORLD. OH MY DAYSSSS. i never expected for one of my posts to get that many likes. like, oh my days. oh my goodness. also, thank you all for 200+ followers. this is like a milestone for me. thank you all for the recent support and the support beyond levels of comprehension. may i bless you all with this drabble i wrote in the midst of all this chaos.

the headboard was breaking again. 

the loud creaks kept getting louder and louder the harder he pounded. he was breaking you yet again tonight. and all you could do was take it. 

of course, it may or may not be pent up frustration from his job as a ceo, but you were rocking the boat between pleasure and pain—leaning more over to the pleasure side. 

his thrusts were getting more harder and faster. his hips were snapping the back of your ass so hard, that it started to go numb. scratch that. it was already numb. 

one of his hands held both of your arms firmly, preventing you from pushing him away. you could faintly hear his grunts and groans as he slipped his cock in and out of your tired hole. 

“jesus christ.” he mumbled under his breath, bending over to nibble on your ear. “you’re so good f’me. aren’t you?” he asked, his breath fanning over your ear as he kissed you cheek and stood back up. 

he licked his lips, tasting the saltiness of your tears that were still running down your face. he teased his cock up and down your enterance. he chuckled, “no need to cry, baby. this is what you wanted, is it not?” you whined and tried to protest as he slipped his cock back in your bullied pussy, but all that left your lips were babbles and pleas for him to slow down—which in his ears signaled him to move faster. 

this was your eleventh orgasm of the night, you think. it was all such a blur. you don’t even remember your eyes rolling to the back of your head or your nails scratching your skin and his. 

you don’t remember his sweet voice telling you that you did so good and that you were his good girl. 

you don’t remember him carrying you bridal style to the bathroom to get washed up. 

you don’t remember him sitting in the water with you in his lap humming lullabies. 

you don’t remember him dressing you in nightwear and carrying you to bed. 

you don’t remember the kiss that he gave you before he dozed off. 

you don’t remember how he held you in his arms, whispering words of assurance in your ear. 

but, you do in fact remember one thing: he loves you dearly.

Morning Call ☠ Feitan Portor

Characters: Feitan Portor x fem! reader

Prompt: Somnophilia (Kinktober week 1; day 1)

822 words

Warnings: NSFW 18+, p in v, excessive use of "baby", unprotected sex, Somnophilia (consensual), Cunnilingus (f. receiving), Cock warming, cumming inside, nipple play, morning sex, grammar is all over the place, etc.

Yours truly: This is my first time writing smut, and it's not that great but I truly hope you enjoy it.

Tag list: @regu1ar-huh

Feitan Portor is a very busy man. Most of the times you see him it's late at night. You never know when he'll show up since he's always out dealing with Phantom Troupe business. You would usually stay up waiting and hoping he shows up, but today was a long day for you. Once you got home you took a shower, changed into one of your boyfriends shirts he left behind, a pair of panties, and instantly fell asleep.

A couple hours into the morning you are woken up with a wet and hot feeling in between your legs. Even though your mind is still drowsy with sleep you instantly knew what was happening.

"Fei?" Shuddering, you slowly open your eyes to the view of your boyfriend shoving his tongue into your pussy. He has you on your back and your legs thrown over his shoulder. His pace was slow and lazy.

"Hi baby." He mumbled as he looked up and gave you a small smile before he dove back into you, circling your clit with his tongue with much more energy than before. At the same time, he inserts two fingers into your dripping hole.

"Fei—" Your hands quickly grab his hair as a familiar feeling already starts settling in your stomach. As he begins to pump his fingers in and out of you, he sloppily licks and sucks your clit into his mouth. You were basically melting into him. He lets out a small, muffled whimper when you tug on his hair.

"Oh fuck baby keep going I'm gonna—" your thighs start quivering and close around his head as he picks up his pace. Breathless you gasp and tilt you head back loudly moaning his name as you tip over the edge reaching your first orgasm. Helping you through it he leans back on his knees now slowly pumping his fingers in and out.

Getting overstimulated you lazily swatted at his hand whispering "stop...'s too much." Leaning down towards you, he pulls you into a lazy, but deep kiss as you taste yourself on his tongue. Resting your hands on his bare chest you start toying with his nipples. He breaks the kiss to let out a moan and grinds his clothed cock against your clit.

Leaning into your ear he whispers "missed you...sorry I woke you up. Couldn't wait. Needed you so bad." He then hurryingly helps you slip his your shirt off and throws it somewhere. He kisses down your neck to your breasts when he pops a nipple into his mouth as he plays with the other one squeezing and pinching it.

"Mmm me too Feitan...been so lonely without you." You whimper gasping when he bites down. Stopping with his actions he holds your face looking into your eyes noticing the hazy look in them. Feitan couldn't tell if it was sleepiness or lust, maybe both.

"Tired baby?" He asks. Nodding and humming in agreement, you whine and push yourself against his erection ready for him to fuck you back to sleep. Draping your arms across his shoulders you say, "need you to fuck me please."

"Easy. just relax for me baby. I got you." He quickly takes his pants off and switches your positions till you're both laying on your sides with him behind you. He raises your leg and drapes it back on his. Grabbing his dick Feitan gives himself a few pumps before he leads his leaking slightly red tip against your hole. Slowly, he pushes through and you both sigh out. "You're so tight baby fuck" he says through gritted teeth. The stretch is so delicious it has your eyes rolling back when he finally fills you up to the hilt.

"Mmm fuck baby I need you to move please" you moan out and he grants your wishes. At first, he starts off strong but slow almost pulling out completely before pushing back in with one motion. "oh fuck faster fuck me faster baby please!" Screaming you fuck yourself back into him as he moves faster. The sound coming from where you two are connected filled the room with a fwap fwap fwap sound. It was absolutely sinful the way he was fucking you as he hits all the spots that has you seeing stars. "Fei I'm I'm—"

Feitan knows your close with the way you're squeezing his cock like a fucking vice. "I know baby fuck...cum for me cum all over my cock" he hisses out. Your legs start shaking and your toes curl as your climax approaches you so quick and sudden you're seeing white. Feitan is right behind as he stills inside and pumps you full of his cum. Coming down from his high Feitan notices your deep breathes signaling that you're asleep. Chuckling, he kisses your cheek, wraps his arms around your waist pulling you closer, closing his eyes, and falling into dream land as he leaves himself inside you.